A Twist of Fate
by Hermione Hean Fui
Summary: What would happen when the brightest witch for her age meets the darkest wizard of all time? Find out what happen when Hermione Granger, who had travelled back in time by drinking a mysterious potion that she made herself, copes with the situation when she is about to face Lord Voldemort! Would Hermione change the future, and turn things around? Or was it just a twist of fate?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights of Harry Potter. It remains with the respective writer. :p

PM:

What would happen when the brightest witch for her age meets the darkest wizard of all time? Find out how Hermione Granger and Tom Marvolo Riddle handle the situation! And find out how the hatred that Hermione Granger had developed against Tom Riddle blossomed into love and affection!

CHAPTER 1: PROLOGUE

Hermione Granger had been known as the brightest witch for her age, as she always scored the highest mark in every examination; although she was not as gifted with Defence against the Dark Arts as her best friend, Harry Potter. Hermione had scored very well in her OWLS, as she had managed to obtain 11 Os [Outstanding] and an E [Exceed Expectations] for her Defence against the Dark Arts. All the school teachers have high expectations set upon Hermione; they was sure that the brilliant little witch would be able to somehow bring fame and glory to the world around her and also to herself. Hermione, on the other hand, does not have confidence that she would be able to succeed. She was always worried after every examination. She would stay behind after the examinations, to ask the teachers how she had done. Nevertheless, she too hoped that some day in the future, she would be able to bring fame and glory upon herself. However, Hermione have been prevented from excelling further due to the war that broke out after her sixth year at the school.

Not a year ago, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry have undergone a war, where the dark forces fought against all the others in the school. The rivalry between the darkest wizards of all time, Lord Voldemort, or also known as Tom Marvolo Riddle and Hermione's best friend, Harry Potter, had ended well. Harry had managed to defeat Lord Voldemort, and Hogwarts is able to return to its glory again, although—sadly to say, some dear lives have been lost.

Currently, Harry, Hermione and their other friend, Ronald Weasley had returned to Hogwarts to finish school, and sat for the NEWT examination, before they were able to graduate from Hogwarts and find a job. Finishing school was always Hermione's plan, but this was not the case with Harry and Ron. Ron had apparently opted to finish school as he had no choice. His parents refused to let him to follow his dream, i.e. to train to be a well-known Quidditch player, as they believed that there was little future in the job. Ron's application for a job in the Ministry of Magic failed too, as they had established that he lacked experience and his OWLS grades do not meet the expected standard. Hence, his parents had talked him into going back to Hogwarts, and after a few tantrums and protests, Ron finally gave in.

Harry, meanwhile, had little trouble in applying for a job in the ministry, as he have been known as the best and most established young wizard of his time, after he defeated Lord Voldemort. However, Harry had chosen to join both of his friends at Hogwarts, and wished to complete his studies. He had also tried to locate his aunt and uncle after the war, but his attempts do not work out. It was clear that Vernon Dursley and his wife, Petunia, had not wished to contact him again after the war. Harry had no idea where they were at this moment, and he had told Hermione that he would continue to look for them. Hermione had sympathized with him, but she hated that idea. She wished Harry would concentrate more on his studies, as the NEWT is very important and would determine their future. She wished that Harry would not be distracted by other things the whole year.

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"Harry, are you listening to me?" Hermion snapped angrily at Harry, who is sitting opposite her, with his arms crossed. They are in the Gryfindor commonroom, which was quite deserted, as most of the other students have gone to bed after dinner. It was an hour after dinner now.

"Yes, Hermy. You don't have to snap at me like this," Harry snapped back. Hermione can detect the flick of anger in his green eyes.

"We would be having our potions examination tomorrow. What are you waiting for? Get out your cauldron and ingredients. We need to practice," she said evenly.

"Ah, yes. You and your exams, Hermy…"

"Stop calling me Hermy, will you? I hate it."

"Ah, you never protest when Ron called you that. Why can't I call you Hermy?"

She started to open her mouth to argue, but know that it would be pointless to do so.

"Harry, it's really over between us." Hermione said this dryly.

"Us? I thought we were just friends, Hermione?" he looked enquiringly at her.

"No! I mean that Ronald Weasley and I are not going to be together again. It's over. As I have told you six months ago," Hermione snapped furiously. "I hope your brain stills have that memory. Or should I bring you to Dumbledore's pensive to refresh your memory?"

"I know, Hermione. Calm down. Don't be so emotional, okay? I'm not saying anything more on this topic. Now, where's Ron?"

Hermione glowered at him. "No idea. And, if you think that Ron is more important than your exams, find him yourself. I'm going down to the dungeons, to practice making potions for tomorrow."

At that precise moment, Ron entered the commonroom, scowling. He carried a stack of books in his hands.

"What's the matter, Ron?" Harry asked.

"Mum and dad just sent these. Percy's old notes. They said that I should have a look at them before going to bed tonight. They think that this would help me…"

Before he was able to finish the sentence, Hermione quickly put out her hand and said: "Can I have a look, Ron" I want to make sure that I don't miss anything."

"Oh, come on, Hermy. You don't have to do this. I don't even bother opening these. Junk! Totally junk! PERCY HAD GIVEN HIS NOTES TO Penolope before, and sees what she got for her NEWT? Only a few…"

"Oh, shut up, Ronald! I want to have a look, if you please," Hermione reached out, and snatched the books from Ron's hands.

"Hey!" Ron shrieked. "Hermione Granger! I'm not your boyfriend anymore. So, I have no need to listen to you anymore. And you know why? Because, you are the most crazy and idiotic tart that I've ever met in my life. Bossy, always want others to follow your instructions. I broke up with you because I just can't tolerate this any longer!"

Both Harry and Hermione were perfectly shocked. Hermione stand rooted to her spot, a few feet away from where Ron was standing, and Harry sat at the armchair, speechless. They have not expected this sudden outburst.

For a moment, it seems that Ron had just realized what he had just done, and he too, stood rooted to his spot, looking first at Hermione, and then slowly turning to Harry.

After a few minutes, Ron drew in a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak again.

"And, I haven't finished yet…"

Before he can utter another syllable, Hermione stride towards Ron, and punch him hard on the nose. Ron drew back in surprise, and tried to back away, but Hermione was faster. She pointed her wand at Ron and spat: "Ronald Weasley! I've never expected this from you. And I'm warning you now. Don't you dare to say anything more? I'm also fed up with you. You never seem to take our relationship seriously. You…you…" Tears started to form in Hermione's eyes, but she blinked them back fiercely.

"Hey, can both of you stop this? I'm still here. Ron, get a grip on yourself. Hermione, please don't use your wand at Ron!" Harry, who had finally found his voice said hotly.

Hermione spun round and looked at Harry angrily. Ron backed away, and sat in an armchair near the fireplace, which was on the far right side of the commonroom.

"Take it! Take it! Take it, you stupid Muggle! Read it!" Ron burst out with rage from where he was sitting, throwing the books one by one at Hermione.

"Ron!" Harry shouted angrily at him. He started to get to his feet.

"How dare you, Ronald! How dare you call me a Muggle?" Hermione shrieked at the top of her voice. "You will be sorry for this, oh, you will!"

And with that, Hermione picked up all of the books that Ron had thrown at her and flung them into the fireplace. The fire crackled slightly, and the books started to burn in a few seconds.

"Hermione!" Harry tried to calm her, but Hermione was already climbing out of the hole and asking the portrait of the fat lady to move aside, in a rude voice.

"Hermione! Come back here…"

Harry tried to run after Hermione but stopped, as he knew that it would be useless to do so. Hermione Granger would not listen to a single person when she is in a tantrum.

Harry turned back to Ron, who was still sitting by the fireplace. Ron made no attempt to retrieve the books from the burning fire.

After a few minutes, where both of them were silent, Ron finally stretched and said: "I'm going to bed. Good night, Harry. And, good luck for tomorrow."

Before Harry could open his mouth, Ron had stood up, and takes the stairs to the boy's dormitory upstairs. Harry sighed, and went back to sit in the chair in which he had been sitting on earlier. He rolled up the scroll of parchment that he had placed beside him, who contained his notes for potions, and gathered up all his books. He was going to bed too, he decided.

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Hermione walked briskly through the dark corridors. The portraits on the wall didn't seem to pay any attention to her. Hermione walked and walked until she reached the dungeons. Clutching her books in one hand, and slinging her bag which contained her cauldron and potions ingredients on her other hand, she walked briskly until she reached the dungeons.

"Lumos!" she whispered, and the light emitted from the end of her wand. She carefully walked to a table, placed her ingredients there, and walked back to close the door behind her. After that, she uses her wand again to light a fire in one of the old and unused cauldrons in the dungeon, which was previously the office of Severus Snape.

Then, he sat down at the table where she had placed her things on earlier. Her temper was flaring. How Ron could call her a Muggle? After all this years. Hermione admitted that she had indeed try to tolerate Ron and try to make things work out between them, but all her attempts had failed. Ron was clearly not going to be her other half.

But still…how could he? After all these years, how could he treat her like this? She stifled a sob, and wiped her eyes furiously on the sleeve of her robes.

After she had managed to calm herself, Hermione turned and look around her. The office has not changed much since the last time she had entered it in her second year, to steal some ingredients for the Pollijus potion. The tall bottles and jars containing potion ingredients such as large betle eyes still stood at their respective spots, untouched. Snape's desk, which contained various drawers was dusty, and other cupboards were locked. The other teachers have still not managed to unlock these. Snape had put a spell on them, and no one knows how to break them—not even Hermione herself!

Hermione started to take out her cauldron and books. She arranged all the ingredients that she needed and started to try her first potion: making a sleeping potion.

She carefully measure out all the ingredients that she needed, and started to put them into her cauldron. She stirred them every now and then.

"There. It's just fine." Hermione smiled at herself, and watched the bright pink liquid swirl and glitter in her cauldron. "Beautiful." She mutter to herself and smiled at her work. "Now, it's time to move on to the love potion…and after that, oh my, the list just goes on and on…"

A few hours later, Hermione had managed to make all the potions that they required for the examination on tomorrow. Now, she was confident with herself. She decided to go to bed.

She started to pour all the potions she had made into small bottles, and put them neatly in a row on an empty shelf in the office. Then, she started to gather all her books. Just as she was placing the final book on top of the stack, a piece of parchment dropped out from within the book. She sighed, put down the book, and picked up the piece of parchment.

The parchment was old and its edges were torn. Nevertheless, the writing was still readable. Hermione frowned, and looked at the book in which the parchment had dropped out from. She smiled.

The book was their potions textbook for the sixth year, and this was not Hermione's own copy. She had mistakenly taken Harry's copy of the book in her hurry in leaving the commonroom just now, thanks to Ron. Harry's book was the one owned by Snape earlier. Somehow, he had managed to retrieve it from the room of requirement after the war, where he had hidden it earlier. It was surprising that the book was able to survive the fire. Harry had taken the book out from the room and had shared it willingly with Ron and Hermione. They had learned new spell, which Snape had written in his small, cramped together and packed handwriting. Hermione had secretly started to love the book, though she would not admit it to either Harry or Ron. They both would tease her, as she was against the book earlier, and had told Harry off for countless times.

She gives her attention back to the piece of parchment. The writing on the paper was not Harry's, nor Ron's nor Snape's! It was written in green ink with a very neat flow.

**THE MAGICAL DRAFT**

**Ingredients: **

**500 ounces of snake skin, 2 scoops of betle eyes [large], a drop of the love potion mixture, a drop of the sleeping potion mixture and a few of truth potion. **

**May you find the greatest pleasure in making this draft, as it would unleash truths, emotions and other feelings from within your soul. May you drift off slowly into a wonderful and deep sleep, which you will awake to find that the world around you have evolve and change according to your desire. May you survive the dark times that is going to come…And mind you, my friend, you would be traveling back in time into a world that you yourself could not have imagined. **

**Steps and guidelines: **

**Mix the truth potion, love potion and sleeping draft together. **

**Measure the betle eyes and snake skin. Slice the snake skin into smaller portions and add them into the mixture. Beware of the bubbles. **

**Finally, add in the betle eyes and stir the mixture. **

**Your potion should turn from yellowish brown to an "avada kadevra" green. [Hermione shuddered at this]. **

**Let the mixture sizzled and boil. Wait for 30 minutes before pouring it out into a glass/bottle/bowl. **

**Now, the potion is ready for your consumption. Enjoy! **

Hermione stared at the paper again. She wondered who have written it. It could be Dumbledore, but she heard that he was not gifted with potions. Or perhaps Slughorn! N, it couldn't possibly be him. He would have told them about it in his classes. For a fleeting moment, she thought that she would clarify this with Slughorn, as his office was not far from Snape's office. However, after glancing at her time turner, she decided that this was out of the way, as it was already passing midnight, and Slughorn would probably be snoring into his pillow now. She chuckled at the thought of the potions master sleeping soundly.

Then, Hermione decided to do something that she know would be silly. She decided to try out the potion. She was curious. Although she knows that this was not a smart thing to do, she was too curious and could not resist the temptation to try it out.

So, she put down all her books, smoothed the parchment and placed it on the table and set to work. She measured all the ingredients, and climbed onto a stool to retrieve the jar of truth potion that Snape have brewed and hidden from Umbridge the toad-like woman. Hermione glowered at the bottle angrily at the thought of that woman.

After gathering her ingredients, Hermione started to mix the potion. In less than an hour, the potion was ready. She reached for a bottle, and poured all the avada kadevra green liquid into the bottle. Then, she sat back and considers her options.

Should she drink the potion? Or should she bring it back to the Gryfindor commonroom to share what she had made with both of her friends? Hermione thought that the latter option would be better, so she packed up all her books and trotted off, humming softly, in the direction of the Gryfindor tower.

XXXXXX

When she entered the commonroom, it was completely deserted. Hermione stared at the now empty room, and the feeling of anger started to return. How could both of them leave matters as such? How can they do this to her? It is so unfair, Hermione thought. Why wouldn't Harry talk some sense into Ron?

"Guys. The problem with them is their ego." She hissed softly. She was so angry now.

Finally, failing to calm down, she decided that she would try out the potion on her own. At least both of her friends would be sorry if anything will happen to her. Let them feel what it is like, Hermione thought, and a wicked grin formed on her face.

She believed that the potion would be harmless. Or else, why would anyone bother to write it down?

But Hermione Granger had not realized that she was wrong.

Gingerly, Hermione tucked the bottle into her robe pocket, climbed the steps to the girl's dormitory and plopped down on her soft four-poster bed.

After putting away her books and preparing the necessary things that she would need in the morning for the potions exams, she sat on the edge of her bed, and take out the bottle from her robe pocket.

The green liquid glittered in the dark, and it swirl slightly as Hermione tilted it upside down.

She uncapped the bottle slowly, and brought it to her lips. The smell was so good and refreshing; it was the mixture of butter beer, malt, fire whiskey, pumpkin juice and hot chocolate. The smell wafted through the air and Hermione could not resist it any longer. She takes a deep breath, and pressed the liquid to her lips.

She swallowed six gulps of the potion, and found that she liked it. She continued to sip it, until the bottle was empty. She put the bottle down, and waited.

Nothing happened for the first 20 minutes. Maybe this is a joke, thought Hermione. Maybe this is just a crazy potion, Hermione thought. Someone had probably made up this draft just to have fun. Nothing bad would happen to her, she thought.

However, she was soon to find out that she was wrong.

A few seconds after, Hermione felt a sudden dizziness. She tried to push herself up from the bed, but she found that she could not do so. Her knees buckled, and she feels an icy cold passed through her whole body. Suddenly, her body began to twitch uncontrobally. She tried to scream, but her throat was too dry, and no sound could be heard. She grasped the edge of her bed, but she fingers began to shake so tremendously that she almost fall off the bed.

The last thing Hermione saw was a blinding flash of green, before she sank into her bed into oblivion.

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**Thanks to Microsoft word spelling check and my sister, Ginny Hean Ai, who had checked it. I hope there is no mistakes. :d

**Hey…This is the first chapter…The idea just pop into my head, and I got excited. I hope all of you liked it. I made up the potion draft, after some thought, and I think it would be fun, but quite weird. Anyway, please read and review…The next chapter would be up soon. :d

~Hermione Hean Fui


	2. Chapter 2PLANS FOR THE FUTURE

A/N: Hey! I know that I've not updated my story for quite some time. This is because I have A-levels exams. I'll be sitting for my last paper on Monday, and then the updates would be more frequent. But, I feel like writing a chapter now, as I am too stressing studying. So, there you go, chapter 2. Sorry it's a bit short. The chapters would be longer once my exams are over.

** Sorry for the earlier confusion. I actually put the story in the wrong category. Now, I've corrected my mistake... Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter still remained with J.K. Rowling. This is the case with all the other chapters.

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Chapter 2: PLANS FOR THE FUTURE

As the Hogwarts Express rattled past green fields, lush green forests and high mountains, all the students in the various compartments continued to chat happily amongst themselves. From various compartments, various giggles can be heard from the girls, who gossiped non-stop about their professors and the latest pairs at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The boys on the other hand, continued to chatter away while munching on pumpkin pasties, brought from the fat lady who pushed the trolley into compartments during lunch time. Some were leaning against their seats, playing a game of exploding snaps, and others continued to gaze dreamily out of the window.

However, all this excitement and noise does not seem to affect a particular dark-haired teenage boy. The tall boy sat alone in an empty compartment, absently gazing out of the window while reading a book. He was so engrossed in his book that he did not even bother to look up when the door to his compartment slid open, and three large boys entered.

"My Lord?" one of them, a tall boy with blond hair and gray eyes said timidly.

The dark-haired boy jumped, snap the book he was reading shut and looked up at the blond.

"Malfoy…"

"I was just wondering, my Lord, when will our next meeting be?" Malfoy said in the same small and timid voice.

"You fool! I said that I'll inform all of you when the time has come. We're on the train, and people will tend to get suspicious. Didn't you understand my orders?" the boy hissed angrily.

"My Lord, I'm sorry. I just thought…"

"Enough! You'll get your punishment later! Now get out of my sight."

"Yes, my Lord. Certainly, my Lord. Whatever you said," Malfoy began to retrace his steps.

"Wait! Lestrange and Crabbe, may I know both of your intentions of coming here along with Malfoy?" the dark-haired boy hissed angrily at the other two boys.

"My Lord, I just thought that we need to make sure that you remember about our meetings…" Lestrange was cut off by Malfoy, who roughly stepped on his foot. However, it was too late to stop now, as the dark-hhaired boy has already drawn his wand.

"My Lord, please!" Lestrange began to sound frighten.

"Muffliato!" the dark-haired boy casted the charm, that would prevent anyone from hearing their conversation.

"My Lord…" Crabbe tried to help, but was cut off by the dark-haired boy.

"Malfoy!"

"My Lord?" Malfoy began to back away further, fright evidently shown on his face.

"What…is…the first…rule…that I told all of you…when…all of you…are my loyal followers?" the dark-haired boy sprang up from his seat, but he did this gracefully. He began to pace the compartment slowly.

"Never to disobey your orders…" Malfoy trailed off. Perspiration was beginning to form on his forehead. He was trembling from head to toe nervously.

"Right. And what would happened to those who disobeyed me?" the dark-haired boy began to advance on Malfoy.

"Severe punishment..." Lestrange answered this time.

"Exactly."

The dark-haired boy was now in front of Malfoy, twirling his wand using his thin and long fingers. There were so pale that one might think that he was a waxed doll.

"Silence!"

With another flick of the wand, all three were silenced.

"Malfoy, please step forward!"

Malfoy began to shuffle towards the dark-haired boy, still trembling.

"Crucio!"

Malfoy's body began to twitch. In less than a few seconds, he collapsed. He tried to scream, but no sound came out from his mouth, as he had been silenced by the silencing charm.

After a few minutes, the dark-haired boy lifted off the curse and advanced on Lestrange.

"Crucio!"

Lestrange began to twitch, and tried to scream. Again, no sound came out from his mouth.

Crabbe was the last to suffer the torture curse. After all three of them have been punished, the dark-haired boy stepped back, a wicked smile on his face.

"Now, get out! And, next time, when you've been given an order, obey it!"

"Yes, my Lord." The three boys began to get up from the compartment floor, trembling slightly from the torture session which they had endured just now.

"And, if you said a word about this to anyone…you'll suffer the consequences later. Am I clear on this matter?" the dark-haired boy asked in a dangerous voice.

"Certainly, my Lord. Whatever you said..." Malfoy said, holding open the compartment door. All three of them immediately fled the compartment.

As the compartment door slid shut, the dark-haired boy smirked, and sat down once again.

He was satisfied with the torture session just now. It definitely lifted his spirits. Tom Marvolo Riddle was certainly going to become the darkest wizard of all times, in the future, he grinned as this thought entered his mind.

Of course he would be a powerful wizard. Part of his plans has already been carried out successfully. Not two months ago, he had killed his own father, and framed his uncle for the murder by planting a false memory in his mind. He has also managed to find a way to become immortal, thanks to his pigheaded head of house, Horace Slughorn, who easily complied with his wishes and gave him all the information which he required.

Tom Riddle flicked his wand, and the compartment door bolted shut. No one would be able to enter the compartment now. Then, he bent down and extracted a small black box from his pocket. Inside the box, was a bullock ring, made of stone. He slipped the ring onto his fingers gracefully, and admired its effect for a while. This is his second horcrux. The first have already been made two years ago, when he opened the chamber of secrets, and killed that stupid Myrtle mudblood.

The diary was hidden in a secure location now. Now, this year, he would find a suitable hiding place for the ring. After that, he would find more object to put fragments of his soul inside them. He intended to make seven horcruxes, so that he would be powerful enough to become immortal. He would have to commit five more murders in order to create more horcruxes. He had no problem with that. To him, murderous acts gave him pleasure. Those who disobeyed him and those who have shunned him or looked down on him – not to mentioned had tried to bully him, deserved to die, in his opinion.

He grimaced at that thought. "Finally, I'll be the most powerful wizard in the world. After getting rid of the old coot, of course."

Tom Riddle glowered at the thought of the Deputy Headmaster and his Transfiguration professor, Albus Dumbledore. He was an old fool, always sticking his nose into other people's business, especially Tom's affairs. He hated Dumbledore because the old man knows him exactly, and had indeed suspected him for the incident two years ago. But Dumbledore have not find enough evidence to support his suspicion. Tom always felt uncomfortable when he was under Dumbledore's scrutiny or in his presence.

However, the headmaster, who was also fooled by his good-student-acting façade, did not suspect a thing. To Tom's opinion, Armando Dippet was nothing more than an old fool, who did not deserved to be headmaster at all. He smirked again at that thought. He would have all the professors [excluding Dumbledore, of course] wrapped around his fingers, and they wouldn't even suspect a thing.

"Later, when I am the most powerful wizard of all the times, I'll go for world domination…" he trailed off dreamily, with a malicious glint in his cool blue eyes.

"Soon, everyone would fear, and run for cover, as Lord Voldemort will rise to power in no time!" he put the ring back into the box, and with a lazy flick of his wand, the compartment door of his compartment unbolted itself. He then leaned back and enjoyed the scenery outside.

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** Done! There you go the next chapter. Please read and review!

^^ Hermione Hean Fui ^^


	3. Chapter 3Merope Granger

A/N: This is the third chapter. Took me some time to type it out. Hope all of you enjoy reading it. As promised, this chapter will be longer than the previous chapters. Please read and review.

By the way, I hope that you can post your reviews in English, as I do not understand any other foreign languages. Sorry.

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Chapter 3: MEROPE GRANGER

[Took place two days before Chapter 2]

All Hermione could feel was numbness. Her whole body was aching, and she could not even move a muscle. She groaned softly, and tried to push herself into a sitting position.

As she tried to sit up, a wave of nausea overcome her, and she felt dizzy again. She sighed, and sank down once more. After regaining her consciousness in a few more minutes, she tried to sit up again. This time, she managed to prop herself up on her elbows, and in five more minutes, she was able to sit upright.

She looked around her. She was no longer in the girls' dormitory in Gryfindor tower, where she last remembered. In fact, she has no idea how she have ended up in this different place at all.

She was sitting on a green meadow, where the grass was lush green in colour, and a few cows are grazing in the distance. Around her, tall oak trees grew, and there are also some birches a few feet away where she was sitting. She blinked. This could not be happening. How could she possibly go to sleep in one place and then end up waking up in another totally different place?

She began to feel desperately for her wand which she has tucked in her robe pocket. She has somehow gone to bed by wearing her school uniform. Funny, she thought. As her fingers made contact with the wooden stick, which was her wand, she accidentally brushed against a tiny bottle. Curiously, she takes it out of her pocket, and examined it. And then, it hit her.

Damn. How could she be so stupid? Of course, this is the effect of the potion that she have mixed herself and foolishly, just to get back at her friends for ignoring her, she had drank it. Yes, that's it. She has taken the potion, which have no doubt brought her back in time. She wondered how far back she was now. She began to panic.

What if she remained stuck forever in this time period? How can she get back? The parchment never mentioned any other potion that will bring its drinker back to the time period which they came from. In fact, Hermione had no idea where the parchment was. It must have fallen out of her grasp when she began to felt dizzy. All her belongings were also nowhere to be seen. She only has her wand with her.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! How could I, Hermione Jean Granger made such a mistake?" she began to mock herself in a slightly hoarse voice. She tried to swallow, but a lump was slowly forming in her throat. She have to get back somehow. She should apologies to Harry and Ron for her irrational behaviour.

"But Ron insulted you! How could you forgive him so easily? And what about Harry? At least Harry is not so bad after all, but he always sees things from Ron's point of view rather than yours. There's no need to feel sorry for them," another part of her mocked.

"Whatever," Hermione huffed, and tried to get up, at first, her knees buckled, but after a few more tries, she managed to take a few wobbly steps forward.

Later, Hermione felt better, after resting for several minutes on a park bench nearby. She began to walk more briskly. A plan was beginning to form in her head.

"I must first find out where I am, then I'll apparatus to Diagon Alley [if it exists in this time period]-which I have no idea… Then I'll see how things will progress from then onwards," Hermione murmured softly to herself, while continuing to walk briskly. Soon, the stretch of green meadows ended, and Hermione emerged onto a winding lane. The wind was picking up speed, and Hermione pulled her robes together, in order to fight the coldness. She shivered slightly.

An hour later, Hermione found herself at another junction. The right path leads to more shop houses, which she has passed on the way. The left path lead to a clearing and Hermione has no idea what it was. Feeling curious and basing her decision on her instincts, she took the left path. Once she was in front of the clearing, she stopped.

A sign on the front of the white marble building announced that this is the offices and publishing units of the local newspaper, the Times.

"Good. I'll be able to find out the exact date and time period which I am in now," Hermione said excitedly. She began to walk towards the building.

Before she could reach out and open the door, the large double doors swung open, and a tall, broad-shouldered man walked out, carrying a large stack of newspapers in his left hand and a cup of coffee in another. Hermione wondered how he could manage this so easily, even without using magic.

The man was tall, broad-shouldered, and has sandy brown hair. His eyes were a cold gray, and his full lips curved upwards into a smirk when he saw Hermione.

"Aye, what do we 'ave here, I say? What is such a wonderful young lady like yer doin' 'ere, eh?" he asked in a tone which Hermione assume to be annoyed.

"Excuse me, sir. I was a tourist from France. I was wondering whether you can tell me the date today, as I've lose track of time. You see, I'm suffering from memory loss, after the accident a few days ago.." Hermione trailed off, hoping that the man would buy her story.

"Yer poor thing," the man's voice was laced with sympathy now. "O'course, certainly. It's August 30th, 1944."

Hermione's knees started to buckle. She hoped that she have heard the man wrongly. How could she possibly have gone so far back in time? She has traveled back for almost fifty-four years. How could a mysterious potion bring someone back so far? Even a time turner cannot do this. According to Professor McGonagall when she gave Hermione the time turner during her third year, one can only go back for a few hours using the time turner. The maximum that one can go is sixty hours, as Hermione have researched a few years back in the library.

"Missie, are yer alright?" the man asked, his face showing concern.

"I'm sorry, sir. Just after effects of the accident. Can you repeat the date? I'm afraid I heard you wrongly."

"Why, certainly. It's August 30th, 1944."

Crash! All hope has gone. Hermione felt the lump in her throat forming again. What can she possibly do now?

"Missie?" the man asked in a more concerned voice than before, while taking a step forward towards Hermione.

"I'm sorry, sir. Sorry for troubling you. I think I'll better be off. I've to meet my sister at the hotel in five minutes time. Thank you for your time," Hermione managed to force out.

"Yer're most welcomed. Take care, lady. Woman like you should not be running about, especially when the war is still going on."

War? What war? Hermione thought. Then, reality hit her. Of course, World War II has not ended yet. She was stuck in a time period, where it is still dangerous for people to run about, and the war is still raging on. How can she forget about it?

As Hermione turned the corner, her mind began to turn over possibilities. What should she do now? Where should she go?

Perhaps she should go to Diagon Alley, as Muggle London is clearly not safe now. So, after pondering her decisions and options, she walked in a determined manner towards a narrow gateway, which separated a tall hedgerow from a park. Making sure that no one can see her, she began her apparition.

Destination, she thought. Diagon Alley.

Deliberation. She concentrated harder.

Determination.

And Hermione turned on the spot. The familiar feeling of being sucked into an airless tube overtook her, and when it ended, Hermione opened her eyes to find herself standing in a brightly lit passageway. Sunlight streamed through the road, revealing shops selling books, quills, potion ingredients and etc.

"This is definitely Diagon Alley," Hermione said to herself, excitedly. It had not changed much. Most of the shops are still there. Florish and Blots, the bookshop was much smaller now, but it still looked the same from the outside, with books piling high onto the shelves and some displayed on its windowsill. The apothecary still remained, with its horrible potions' smells coming out of the shop windows. The shops selling broomsticks and the emporium which sells owls and other pets are also there, bustling with activities.

Since it is the 30th of August, Hermione can see various witches and wizards, doing last minute shopping. Middle-age witches dragged their sons and daughters into shops selling books, potion ingredients and dress robes and uniforms. As Hermione walked up the lane, she could not help to notice that people are glancing at her curiously.

Many witches and wizards carrying large shopping bags bumped into Hermione while hurrying along on their way. Some even smiled tentatively at her. But some others just ignored her. A few middle-aged woman mutter something under their breath and Hermione caught a snippet of their conversation.

"Clothes like that…"

"I wonder where she came from…"

"Certainly not around here, Donna, if you ask me…"

It was then that Hermione realized that she was their main subject of the conversation.

"Of course," she said slowly, after realization began to dawn on her. The clothes she was wearing did not match the 40s' styles. The witches wore longer robes, and skirts compared to the jeans, which Hermione is wearing now. She has to get out of here fast, before people began to ask questions.

A jolt of panic suddenly struck her. "Bad things happened to witches and wizards who meddled with time, Miss Granger."

The familiar voice of the late Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore still rang clearly in her head. "Remember, you must not be seen."

"Damn. I've already broken the first rule," Hermione muttered to herself. "Damn the consequences. I've to find a way to get back, before I create more changes to the timeline."

A slow smile began to spread itself onto Hermione's face, when she finally knows what she should do now. A plan began to formulate in her mind. However, she was not sure whether this will work well. After all, this was the best option she could think of at the moment.

And with that, Hermione began to walk towards Gringots bank. She would have to open an account at the bank first, then write a letter to the current headmaster at Hogwarts, Armando Dippet, to ask for a place at the school. She would have to use this opportunity to research more on the potions in the library, and she would get back as fast as possible before any more damage is done and before anyone else notices anything odd about her.

"Yes, this is it," Hermione said confidently. However, a more terrible realization hit her. This was fifty-four years back. That means that the war with Grindawald is still raging on. Dumbledore had not yet defeated the dark wizard, and Hermione hoped that she would be able to get back safely to her time before the war ended. She is frightened that her presence might change something in the history of the wearing world.

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Gringots looked busy as usual. Goblens bustled about, showing customers to their vaults, some weighing precious stones that gleamed when a ray of sunlight from outside caught on them and others just walked about, entertaining enquiries from new customers.

Hermione walked up to the front counter and approached a goblin that was busy scribbling away on a thick ledger.

"How may I assist you, young lady?" the goblin asked in a bored voice, without looking up from the book he was scribbling on.

"I would like to open a Gringots account," Hermione said confidently.

"Wait here," said the goblin. "Glaphawk!"

Another goblin walked out from behind the counter.

"This young lady would like to open a new account. Can you help her, I'm busy here," the first goblen said in the same bored voice which he had used earlier.

"Follow me, please," the goblin called Glaphawk lead Hermione to another counter, which seemed deserted at the moment. "May I have your name, please?"

Hermione pondered this for a while. She could give her real name, but it would definitely lead to consequences. So, she decided to play safe by using a fake name. She said the first words that came to her mind without thinking about it.

"Merope," she said, before she could stop herself. "Merope…Granger."

What was she doing? She has used a name which is not only affecting her situation, but was also someone else's name. Someone not worthy of getting to know, in her opinion. But it was too late now. Perhaps no harm could be done, as she had chosen Granger for her family name. This would not bring about any suspicions.

"Very well, Ms. Granger. If you'll wait, I'll prepare the necessary paperwork. After we have signed it, I'll show you your vault. Please wait here," the goblin began to walk off and Hermione saw him disappeared behind a set of double doors.

Ten minutes later, Hermione emerged from Gringots. She have emptied all the contents of her pocket [including her beaded bag], which she is lucky to have brought it along with her, and some money into her vault. Now, people would not be suspicious about her. At least not yet, she tried to comfort herself.

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Three hours later, Hermione was eating a bowl of hot chicken stew at the Leaky Cauldron. She had done her shopping, purchasing a few necessary things, such as some clothes, with the money that she have. Then, she have skimmed some books in Florish and Blots, to see whether there are any books related to advanced and dark potion making. As she had predicted, there was nothing much in the shop. A wave of disappointment overtook her as she stepped out of the bookshop, and made her way out of Diagon Alley. She had planned to stay temporarily at the Leaky Cauldron, until she received her reply from Headmaster Dippet. She had gone to the owlery and posted her hastily scribbled letter. She hoped that the Headmaster would be kind enough to accept her request.

"How was the stew, dear?"

Hermione was jolted away from her thoughts by a squeaky voice. When she looked up, she could not stop herself from gasping. Standing in front of her, was Tom the barman, but he looked younger, with black hair neatly combed and parted to one side.

"Is there something wrong?" Tom asked in a concerned voice.

Hermione quickly masked her shock by smiling at the barman.

"No. It's just fine. The stew is very nice."

"Glad you liked it," Tom said, giving her shoulder a light squeeze before walking away to serve other customers.

After finishing her lunch, Hermione decided to call it a day, and went up to her room. Tom had agreed to let a room to her, with the charge of 2 galleons per night. Hermione had happily agreed.

Her room was quite small, with a bed at the right corner of the room. The walls were painted blue, and the floor was whitewashed. At the far end of the room, there was a small bathroom. Opposite the bed, there was a small window, which Hermione could look out and observed the activity down at the busy Muggle London streets.

After taking a shower, Hermione decided to take a quick nap, before going down to the bar for dinner. The moment her head hit the pillow, she fell asleep immediately. All the activities of that day had tired her out.

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Hermione was walking with Ron through the corridors, dodging curses after curses.

"Come on, Hermione. We've to find Harry," Ron tugged her along. A few minutes ago, Lord Voldemort had mocked Harry, and had challenged him to show up, so that all his friends would not have to die for him. Knowing Harry, Hermione and Ron have guessed that he have gone into the forbidden forest to meet with the devil himself.

A few minutes ago, Hermione and Ron have gone down to the chamber of secrets, thanks to Ron, who was able to open it using Parseltoungue. Hermione wondered how he had managed it. She herself has damaged the cup of Helga Hufflepuff, which held a fragment of Voldemort's soul. Now is the time to find Harry.

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Curses were flying everywhere. Thonks fall onto the ground. Lupin was next.

"No!" Hermione screamed, and ran towards them.

Hagrid emerged from the forbidden forest, carrying a limp form in his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Harry, no! It couldn't be!" Hermione screamed.

Ginny's screams filled the night air. Then, all of a sudden, everything became blurring.

Ron dragged her through the crowd. Harry was dead. Dead.

"No!" Hermione screamed. "No! Harry, you can't die now!"

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Hermione jerked awake with a start. Tears were running down her cheeks. Her whole body was sweating, and her clothes stick to her back. She panted for breath for a few seconds, then she sat upright.

She has one of tbhose terrible nightmares again. After the war, she still could not get over with it. There have been many deaths. Her nightmares worsened when she found out that her parents' false identity in Australia have been discovered by the death eaters, and they have tortured and killed them. Hermione only know about this when the war was over. She has been in a state of grief for a few months. Harry and Ron have comforted her, and they also have tried to cheer her up. But Hermione knew that nothing that they do could ever bring back her parents. She finally knows how it is like to lose both family members, like Harry.

"Calm down, it's over. It's just a dream," she patted herself.

After taking another shower, Hermione went down to the bar for dinner. After that, she returned to her room, and spent the remaining evening gazing out of the window at the night starry sky.

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Tap. Tap. Tap.

Hermione blinked.

Tap. Tap.

She opened her eyes and looked around her. Sunlight was streaming in through her window, and a large brown barn owl was tapping frantically on her window.

"Finally," Hermione said, jumping out of the bed excitedly. Dippet's reply has finally arrived.

She threw open the window, and the owl flew in, dropping a letter in her hands. Hermione ruffled its feathers softly, and it flew out of the window, after nibbling her fingers playfully.

Carefully, Hermione slipped two folds of parchment out from the big envelope. The address was written with green ink [just as in her time period] on the front of the envelope.

Ms. Merope Granger,

Room 4,

The Leaky Cauldron.

Hermione unfolded the first bhalf of the parchment. Wish excitement bubbling in the pit of her stomach, she started to read the letter.

Dear Ms. Granger,

I'm most sorry to hear about your loss. In such times, one should expect to hear the worse. Hope you are not too upset with your parents' death, and will be able to move on with your life.

I've like to inform you that I'll be delighted to approve your application to enroll here as a student. Please be at my office on the 1st September, and we will sort out matters there. You may use the Floo network from the Leaky Cauldron to get here.

See you soon, and hope you have a nice day.

Yours most faithful,

Armando Dippet,

Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Hermione felt like jumping up and down. Finally, her application has been approved. He could not believe that the headmaster had bought her story. Therefore, she must be more careful from now on. She must keep on repeating the same story to everybody.

"I'm a half-blood. My dad was a Muggle, and my mum's a witch. I've being home schooled, along with two of my other friends. My parents died recently, in the hands of Grindawald's man. My friends died too. I lived in a small village in France," Hermione repeated the story to herself. She hoped that no one would suspect a thing.

Hermione unfolded the second half of the parchment. Dippet have enclosed a list of subjects offered at Hogwarts, "for your reference", he stated in his bold handwriting at the bottom of the page. He seems to be showing Hermione what the academic system is like at Hogwarts, and Hermione assumed that he is asking her to choose her subjects before going to see him later.

"I'll take all of them," she said, smiling happily to herself.

For the first time in that day, Hermione Jean Granger felt glad that she has ended up at this time period.

"It could be worse," she keeps telling herself, before dressing up for breakfast down at the Leaky Cauldron.

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** There! Chapter 3 is done! Hope all of you liked it. Please read and review!

^^ Hermione Hean Fui ^^

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	4. HOGWARTS 1944 Chapter 4

A/N: Yay! Finally finished my exams! Now, I will be able to update more frequently, at least a chapter a day, or a chapter in two or three days. This is because I'm bored and this is a nice way to fill up my three months break, before I continue with my degree, which is going to start in September.

So, there you go, a new chapter for the day. Hope you enjoy reading it, and please review! I was rather disappointed by the reviews for the first chapters, as it is below ten. Your reviews are much appreciated. Feel free to add your suggestions and correct me if I'm wrong in mentioning certain facts found in the series.

Ok. Enough rambling. Now on with the story. Enjoy! ^^

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Chapter 4: HOGWARTS 1944

On the morning of 1st September, Hermione made her way down to the Leaky Cauldron after ensuring that she has packed all the necessary things needed. As she had just arrived in this time period two days ago, there was not much to pack. She only brought along a tiny suitcase with three pairs of clothing, and her wand. She could buy other things later, as it may look suspicious if she went to Hogwarts with a full trunk bulging with school items. Perhaps she should even asked Dippet for loan to buy her things. This would seem more proper, to match her story about her parents' death and the reason she have to transfer to Hogwarts.

After glancing at herself one last time at the mirror, Hermione walked out of her room, clutching the small suitcase in her hands. Before she went to see Dippet, she decided, on instincts, to take her beaded bag along. It may perhaps be useful. She would leave the materials which indicate that she was from a different time period in her vault, and just take the necessary things, such as potions that she had made herself, some extra money and some of the things Fred and George have given Harry, Ron and her as presents from the joke shop. One never knows when these things, such as Extendable Ears are useful. Hermione chuckled at that thought. She should be thanking the twins if their products really proved to be of use in this time period, if she is able to get back.

After making a quick stop at Gringots, Hermione returned to the Leaky Cauldron for a quick breakfast of toast, eggs and bacon. Then, she glanced at her watch. It was a quarter to eleven; she would go to see Dippet in fifteen more minutes. She would have to calm herself now.

At sharp eleven o'clock, Hermione stepped into the fireplace of the Leaky Cauldron. After pinching some Floo powder from the pot beside the fireplace, and spreading it on her, she stepped into the fireplace, and said in a clear voice: "Dippet's office, Hogwarts!"

She began to spin, and spin. She was now used to traveling via the Floo network now, as she have done it countless times back then, to travel to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix with Harry and Ron. At least it is better than the sensation of being flushed down the toilet; she grimaced, as she recalled the procedure that Harry, Ron and she had to go through when going to the Ministry of Magic, to search Umbridge's office for Slytherin's locket, which contained a fragment of Voldemort's soul.

Finally, the spinning stopped, and with a thud, Hermione landed in the headmaster's office. After briskly dusting off some dirt from her skirt, she straightened up, and looked around.

The office was just as it is during Dumbledore's time as headmaster, but the various trinkets that Dumbledore kept in his office was not there, and there is also no sign of Fakes, the phoenix. Instead, the office was filled with tall bookcases, lined against the walls, with thick leather-bound volumes arranged neatly on them. On the other end of the office, there was a chest of drawers, where various medals were assembled on the top drawer. Dippet was a man which liked to keep a neat office, Hermione quickly noted.

"Ahem," somebody cleared his throat.

Hermione jumped slightly, and turned around quickly. Behind the mahogany desk, sat Armando Dippet. Hermione could recognize him easily, as she has seen his portrait before for countless times when she went to Dumbledore's office.

Dippet was a quite short man, with gray hair, and is balding slightly. Hermione noticed that he seemed to look old and frail.

"You must be Ms. Me rope Granger, I assume?" Dippet asked. Hermione noted that he have a bored voice, which made someone annoy and hoped that the conversation is over as soon as possible. Armando Dippet was certainly a boring man.

"Yes, sir. And I assume that you are Headmaster Dippet?" Hermione asked, faking confusion in her voice.

"Yes, I am Headmaster Dippet. Welcome to Hogwarts, Ms. Granger," Dippet said in the same bored voice, holding out his right hand for Hermione to shake. Hermione grasped the hand, and shook it warmly.

"Thank you for your consideration and for accepting me as a student here, sir. Words can't express my gratitude towards you. If there is anything that I can do to repay your kindness, sir, feel free to voice it out," Hermione said in a voice which she hoped was confident.

"Well, there's no need for that, my dear. If you want to repay the school, you will do so by studying well and be our next top student for the year," said Dippet, smiling slightly. Hermione was surprised that Dippet managed to smile at all. After all, he still talked with a bored baritone all this while.

"Now, sit down, my dear. There are a few things that we need to discuss. Now, if you don't mind, can you please explain the reason you wanted to enroll here more clearly to me?"

Hermione took a deep breath, and pulled out a straight-backed leather chair, and sat down on it. Dippet sat down opposite her.

Hermione pulled herself up to her full height and looked straight ahead. She has been prepared for this. Now, it is show time. She hoped that Dippet will fall for her story.

"I lived in France, in the area in which Grindawald is most active. My parents thought that I should be home schooled, as it is not safe to go to Bobatones at that time. When I was small, I used to learn magic from my mother at home. You see, sir, I'm actually a half-blood; my father was a Muggle and my mum was a witch. They think it is best that I learn magic at home. Eventually, we moved to a small village, where Grindawald was not yet active at that time. I made friends with some other wizards and witches of my age, and we exchange our knowledge with each other. One of my friend's parents was auras, so they thought us how to duel from time to time."

Hermione took another deep breath, and continued.

"A few weeks ago, my parents and I have just returned from a vacation in Venice, when the attacks started. Grindawald destroyed the village that we were living in…and, then he killed everyone, including all my friends and parents."

At this, Hermione faked a stifled sob, and blinked furiously. This seemed to have created the effect that she was hoping for.

"There, there, my dear. I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have asked you about this, but one must understand that we have to make sure that all students who enrolled have a recognizable background. One couldn't take matters lightly now, due to the circumstances of the war. I hope you understand, Ms. Granger," Dippet said, his voice laced with sympathy.

"Certainly, sir," Hermione said, faking a small smile. "It was my parents' last wish that I go to Hogwarts, as it is the safest place now, according to them."

Dippet nodded, showing his understanding. "Now, Ms. Granger, are you aware of the history of Hogwarts?"

"Yes, I've read Hogwarts: A History, when I was twelve. I'm quite fascinated with it. I hope that what I read is really true," Hermione said, faking excitement in her voice.

"You'll find out soon enough. Now, Ms. Granger, as you're new, I would be delighted to inform you that students at Hogwarts are expected to take certain examinations…"

"Yes, I know, headmaster. In fact, I've already sit for my OWLs and passed with flying colours. My parents decided that I should do the tests, although I'm home schooled, to strengthen my knowledge and to boost my confidence. I've already learned a few advanced subjects last year."

"Oh, indeed," said Dippet, in a surprised tone. "So, I should assume that you have a copy of your results?"

"Yes," Hermione said, rummaging in her beaded bag. She produced a parchment where her OWLs results were printed. She has just modified the date and her name on the slip of parchment.

Dippet stretched out his hands and took the extended parchment from Hermione's hands. He scrutinized it for a moment, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Ms. Granger, I see that you are an intelligent student. Well, 11 Outstandings and 1 Exceed Expectations is certainly a very good result. I daresay no one have achieved this record for this long."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione said, blushing slightly.

"Now, I should test you on a few spells first, and if you are alright with them, I'll be delighted to put in seventh year," Dippet said.

Seventh year? That meant that she would be sitting for her NEWTs, which she was doing before coming to this time period. This would be exactly what she needed. She would somehow manage to find out more about the potion during her free time at the library too. Hermione's heart skipped a beat as this thought entered her head.

"Now, Ms. Granger, can you perform these spells?" Dippet held out a piece of parchment towards Hermione. She took it, and skimmed it quickly. She smiled. These were simple spells which she has learned. In fact, she knew all of these at her fingertips, and can even perform these spells non-verbally.

A smile spread across her face. She took out her wand, and non-verbally performs all the spells.

"Accio, book!" she thought, and a thick leather-bound volume from Dippet's shelves flew down and landed in front of her.

"Wingardium leviosa!" Hermione thought, and the book hovered a few meters higher into the air.

Hermione transformed the book into a goblet next. She then jabbed the tip of her want into the goblet.

"Aguamenti!" she thought, and a jet of water shot out from her wand, and filled up the goblet.

Next, Hermione transformed the goblet back into the book with a simple flick of her wand.

"Splendid, you've done a good job, Ms. Granger. Now, can you perhaps perform something more complicated?" Dippet said. "Can you transform this box into something inspiring?"

Dippet held out a tattered cardboard box to Hermione.

"Certainly, sir," Hermione said, smiling.

She thought for a while, and then started to make complicated movements with her wand, while concentrating on the object that she is going to create.

She managed to transform the box into a beautiful wooden box. She waved her wand, and the box changed into gold and red colours. Next, she carved a few Runes on it. Finally, at the lid of the wooden box, Hermione engraved the following words:

TO HEADMASTER ARMANDO DIPPET

FROM MEROPE GRANGER, GRYFINDOR

"There you go, Headmaster," she said, pushing the box towards Dippet. "Hope you liked this. Please take this as a gift, as I couldn't possibly offer you anything else for your help and consideration," she said.

Dippet was pleased. A wide smile spread across his face, and he took the box and examined it.

"You've done a wonderful job, Ms. Granger. Thus, I'm delighted to admit you as a seventh year student at Hogwarts."

"Thank you, Headmaster," Hermione said, offering Dippet another warm smile.

"Oh, by the way," Dippet said, bringing Hermione out of her thoughts, "At Hogwarts, we usually select a few students as prefects, and a head boy and a head girl. Judging from your result, and your extraordinary performance, I would like to offer you the position of Head girl. Are you willing to accept this proposal?"

"H...Headgirl?" Hermione asked. Excitement bubbled in her stomach. She have been waiting to get the post this year, but instead, another Ravenclaw girl have got it, as Hermione have declined Professor McGonagall's offer. She wanted to spend more time with Harry and Ron. Now, given the opportunity, it seemed too good to be foregone.

"Are you sure, sir? I'm new here…" she tried to sound timid.

"Nonsense...You'll do just fine," Dippet waved off her comment with a slight smile. "So, I take it that you accept my offer, Ms. Granger?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be honoured to service the school using my best abilities," Hermione said excitedly.

"Good. Now, we have just one more matter to attend to."

Dippet got up, walked to the chest of drawers, and took down a dusty old hat.

"Now, Ms. Granger, I'll sort you into your house first, and then I'll get someone to assist you to the Heads' Dorms."

"Sorting?" Hermione faked surprise.

"Oh, I forgot. At Hogwarts, students are sorted into four separate houses. They are Gryfindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin."

Dippet went on to explain about the houses, which Hermione have already known by heart. Nevertheless, she pretended to be interested, and asked appropriate questions if she feel that it was necessary.

"Now, Ms. Granger, just put the hat on top of your head," Dippet said, pushing the hat towards Hermione.

WITH trembling fingers, Hermione took the hat, and placed it gently on her head. A few seconds later, Hermione could hear a voice in her head, just as in her first sorting.

"Ah, Ms. Granger. Welcome to the past..."

"How…how do you know?" Hermione asked, and started to panic.

"I'm the sorting hat and nothing you can hide from me… Now, where to put you?"

"Just put me in the house you put me in last time," Hermione said.

"Which is?"

"Gryfindor."

"Ah, yes…I see a lot of bravery, and willing to sacrifice for friends... You possess the quality of a true Gryfindor…But, you have brains too. Maybe Ravenclaw?"

"No, I'll rather stay in Gryfindor, thank you," Hermione said.

"Ah, I see. Such determination…But there is also something…You've changed over the time, more cunning, I see. Perhaps Slytherin would help you to achieve your goals…"

"No, don't even think about it."

"Ah, well. Since you're so sure and determined, better be….GRYFINDOR!"

The hat shouted out the last word. Dippet clapped his hands excitedly. Hermione took off the hat, and sighed in relief.

"Ah, well done, Ms. Granger. Gryfindor is a nice house. Now, I'll fetch Professor Albus Dumbledore to assist you. He is Head of Gryfindor house, and will be happy to show you around the castle," Dippet said. "Your supplies will be delivered to the Heads' Dorms in the evening."

Having said this, Dippet stepped into the fireplace, and shouted something into it. A few minutes later, Albus Dumbledore emerged from the fireplace, dusting off his robes.

Hermione could not help feeling a pang of sadness as she saw Dumbledore. The man looked younger now, with auburn hair and beard. However, he still dressed in the ridiculous colours which he used to in their time. His blue eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles, which is perched on his broken and crooked nose.

"Headmaster, you called?" Dumbledore asked, offering Hermione a wide smile.

"Ah, Dumbledore. This is the student we were talking about last evening. She had already been sorted into Gryfindor house. I hope you will be able to assist her. I've decided to make her Head girl, due to her outstanding results. I daresay she would be a competition for our Head boy, eh?" Dippet said.

"Indeed, Armando. I hope so. Welcome to Hogwarts, miss..."

"Granger. Merope Granger," Hermione said, extending her hands. Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up slightly when she mentioned her first name.

"Such a…extraordinary name, Ms. Granger. Anyway, I'm Professor Albus Dumbledore, Head of Gryfindor house and Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts."

"Nice meeting you, professor," Hermione smiled warmly at Dumbledore. Dumbledore took her extended hand, and gave it a warm and firm shake.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Albus, I've some other matters to attend to. Ms. Granger, I hope you enjoy yourself at Hogwarts. I'll introduce you to the whole school at the opening feast, after the sorting ceremony for the first years is over. Now, off you go."

Dippet waved dismissively to both Dumbledore and Hermione before sitting down in his chair again, and started to shuffle papers around on his desk.

"Good day, Armando," Dumbledore said.

"Good day, Headmaster, and once again, thank you," Hermione chimed in.

"Well. Good day to both of you too. Now, off you go!" Dippet said, without looking up from the stack of papers that he is currently perusing.

Dumbledore lead Hermione out of the office, and down the spiral staircase.

"Well, Ms. Granger, since you're new here, I'll be glad to show you around the castle. Follow me."

Dumbledore lead Hermione through the corridors of Hogwarts. Hermione pretended to marvel at the paintings and changing staircases as she followed Dumbledore. She asked questions when it is appropriate, so that Dumbledore would not be suspicious. He had eyed her suspiciously in Dippet's office, Hermione noticed. She would have to be careful Dumbledore. She planned to tell him everything, but now is not the right time to do so. She would have to find out soon whether there were any materials in the library that she can use in her research of getting home. If there are no materials there, she has no choice but to go to Dumbledore. He would probably understand her situation, and help her best as he can.

"This is the last floor." Dumbledore said, climbing the staircase to the seventh floor. Hermione followed.

After showing Hermione around for about another hour, where they have visited the Astronomy Tower, the Quidditch pitch and the outskirts of the forbidden forest, Dumbledore decided to call it a day.

"The Hogwarts express will be arriving soon. I suggest you go back to the Heads' Dorms and take a shower and get ready. Do you still know the way?"

"Yes, sir."

"The password is Caput Draconis," Dumbledore informed her. Hermione smiled at the thought. This has been the password to the Gryfindor commonroom in her first year, when she first arrived at Hogwarts.

"I'll see you at the opening feast then," Dumbledore said, and smiled warmly at Hermione. "You'll wait at the doors of the Great Hall, and enter when the sorting ceremony is over," said Dumbledore, before walking off, in the direction of his office.

Hermione sighed, and made her way towards the Heads' Dorms.

"Password?" the portrait asked. It was a portrait that Hermione have never seen before. It was of a young lady, dressed in a pink floating velvet gown, holding a wand in one hand, and a pearl in another.

"Caput Draconis."

The portrait swung aside, and Hermione stepped into the Heads' commonroom. She took a sharp intake of breath.

The commonroom was beautiful. Plush cushions were piled on two long couches, one with red and gold colours, and another with green and silver colours. So, the Head boy must be from Slytherin, Hermione noticed, with a slight twinge of disappointment. She would have to be more careful around him then.

The fireplace was burning merrily, and two armchairs were placed close beside it. Hermione surveyed the room for another minute. The walls were decorated in various portraits, with beautiful witches and wizards, and some showing wonderful sceneries.

"Nice," Hermione murmured to herself.

After a few more minutes, Hermione walked up the staircase to the Heads' rooms. There were two staircases, and she decided to try her luck. She took the stairs on her right, and climbed up the flight of stairs. At the top landing, she was shocked. There was a door, with a sign "Headgirl's Room" on it, but the sight of it was horrible.

The door was smeared in various places with various kinds of potions, and when Hermione tried to push it open, the door would not budge an inch.

"Alohomora!" she tried, tapping the lock. Nothing happened. She could not hear the familiar click of the lock unbolting itself.

"Damn!" she muttered furiously.

"Is this some kind of trick? Where am I supposed to sleep? In the commonroom?" she grumbled irritably and made her way out of the Heads' Dorms.

She was going to see Dippet again.

Halfway along the corridor, she bumped into Dumbledore.

"Oh, Ms. Granger, is everything alright?" Dumbledore asked, seeing the exasperated look on Hermione's face.

"Yes, sir. The Headgirl's Room…"

"Ah, I forgot," said Dumbledore, grinning. "Yes, I've forgot to tell you about this, Ms. Granger."

"Tell me what, professor?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Last year, our old Head girl, from Slytherin house has done something to the door. It wouldn't open. We've tried every attempt to unlock it. The door would not open."

"What? Why would she do such a thing?"

"She was angry at someone. She thought that she would be able to keep the position of Head girl all to herself. She is not prepared to let anyone else have the chance. Yes, Elisha Greengrass was certainly a selfish person. So, she thought that by putting some sort of curse on the door, Hogwarts would not have another Head girl."

"How absurd!" Hermione snorted. However, she felt a tinge of excitement. It is possible?

Fred and George had created some sort of powder, which can seal doors permanently, and it would only be opened once the other half of the powder is applied to the door. If Hermione is lucky, she would be able to open the door, as she believed that she have some of the powder, tucked neatly in her beaded bag. She has no idea that someone, especially a Slytherin female, would be able to create this product just yet.

"Yes, Ms. Granger. We're still trying to unlock the door. At the meantime, I'm afraid that you'll be sleeping in the same room as the Head boy. We've enlarged the room, so that it would be big enough to accommodate two persons," Dumbledore said in an apologetic tone.

"It's okay, professor. I'll be able to cope. By the way, I am just curious. Who is the Head boy for this year, professor?" Hermione couldn't help asking. "I assumed that he is from Slytherin, judging by the decorations in the Heads' commonroom."

"Ah, yes. The Head boy this year is indeed from Slytherin house. Quite a charming young man, I daresay, but you would want to be careful around him, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said.

"Oh?" Hermione was getting curious. Why would Dumbledore talk about a student in such a way? Is he prejudice towards Slytherin students?

"No, it couldn't be," Hermione said. Dumbledore was not, in Hermione's opinion, a bias type of person.

"You'll be meeting young Mr. Riddle soon," Dumbledore said.

Riddle? Had she heard the name before? It sounds familiar.

Riddle. Riddle. Tom Riddle?

"No!" Hermione thought, horrified. "It couldn't possibly be. But wait a minute, this is 1944…"

And, reality crashed down on her.

Of course, how could she be so stupid? She has forgotten about this important fact. If she was careful enough in her plans, she would not have come here at all. There will be horrible flaws in her plans now.

She was stuck in Tom Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort's time, when he attended Hogwarts. Of course, Head boy, and 1944. Why hadn't she thought about it earlier?

"Ms. Granger?"

Dumbledore gazed down her with his twinkling eyes, concern written all over his features. "Is there something wrong" You've gone quite pale."

"No…no, sir," Hermione managed to force out. "I guess I'm just tired. I'll lie down for a while. I still have half an hour before the feast starts."

"Are you sure? I can ask Headmaster Dippet to excuse you for tonight. We can do the introduction on tomorrow," Dumbledore said.

"I guess that'll be fine, thank you, professor," Hermione said, with a weak voice.

Her knees were beginning to buckle. She trembled slightly.

"The announcement of your post of Head girl will be done all the same. The formal introduction will be conducted on tomorrow then," Dumbledore said.

"Thank you, professor," Hermione said, smiling at Dumbledore.

"No problem at all, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore replied with a warm smile.

"I'll ask the house elves to bring something up to your dorms for you in a minute," Dumbledore continued. "Have a good rest, Ms. Granger."

"Thank you, professor," Hermione said. "Good evening, Professor Dumbledore."

"Good evening, Ms. Granger."

And with that, Dumbledore turned and walked away down the corridor.

Hermione took a few steps back, and leaned on the wall opposite the corridor.

Damn.

This should not have happened. She would be killed before she is able to get home. In fact, she might be avada kadevra-ed and crucio-ed at any moment. The young dark lord was a dangerous person. He is already a dangerous psychopathic murderer.

As Hermione recalled, he had already opened the Chamber of Secrets two years ago, and have already created his first horror. This summer, he has probably killed his father, framed his uncle and has obtained the Resurrection Stone [the black ring] from the gaunt shack. This means that he has already created his second horcrux. He had already obtained the necessary information he needed from the restricted section, no doubt, and also confirmation of the information of his information from Slughorn. Hermione shuddered at that thought. God knows how many murders more that he has committed. And, he had already begun to form his ring of followers, known as the Death Eaters. Hermione shuddered more at that thought. She would have to get back fast, before anything happened to her.

After calming herself down, Hermione made her way back to the seventh floor, where the Heads' Dorms were located.

"Why, my dear, whatever happened to you?" the portrait of the young lady asked, after observing the state Hermione was in.

"Caput Draconis," Hermione said, before the young lady could continue her rant.

The portrait swung aside, and Hermione stepped into the commonroom. She managed to make it to the couch before she collapsed onto it heavily.

After taking a deep breath, Hermione got up shakily and walked up the flight of stairs to the Headgirl's room. She took out her beaded bag and rummaged in it for the powder. She hoped that she had brought it along. There was no way that she is going to share a room with a psychopathic murderer; she could be avada kadevra-ed at any moment in the middle of the night. She shuddered at that thought.

"Ah," she said after a few minutes of digging about in her bag, and pulled out a big box. The box contained some of the products that the Weasley twins have made themselves. "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes" were clearly stamped on top of the cover of the box.

Hermione rummaged in the box. After a few more minutes of searching, she face fell. All hope has gone.

There was no more of that powder left. Harry and Ron must have used it up last week [before she got here] to play a prank on their most hated person, Draco Malfoy, by locking him in the Slytherin dungeons for about three days. Malfoy have complained about it to Professor McGonagall, and Hermione have given the two boys a long lecture after that.

"Damn," Hermione muttered after a few more minutes of useless searching around in the box. She stuffed the box back into her beaded bag.

"Perhaps I'll sleep in the commonroom, on the couch," Hermione thought.

"Don't be silly; anyway, you'll have to share a room with him somehow. People may get suspicious. And, he'll notice me eventually, if I sleep on the couch," another part of her mocked.

"Oh, whatever," Hermione huffed. She would have to be extremely careful from now on.

Sighing heavily, she took one last look at the closed door, and then turned and stomped down the staircase. Now, she turned to the left and walked up the flight of stairs, leading to the Head boy's room.

She pushed open the door and entered the room. It was decorated in green and silver colours, as she had expected. Hermione couldn't hide the disgust from her face as she eyed the decorations.

"Bloody Slytherins!" she swore under her breath.

The room, as Dumbledore had promised, has been enlarged. On the further right end of the room, were decorations in red and gold. Hermione walked to towards it, and sighed.

"At least they have some sense of putting the beds further apart," Hermione noted, as she observed her surroundings.

The Head boy's bed was on the far left end of the room, while her bed was on the opposite side. Hermione couldn't help feeling a bit happy, seeing the large four-poster bed, with red and gold covers on it. Beautiful patterns were embroided on the quilt, and Hermione traced it delicately using her fingers.

"Oh, this is beautiful," Hermione said. She immediately plopped down on the bed, and enjoyed its softness.

A tiny "pop" sound brought Hermione out of her thoughts.

Hermione looked up, and saw a houseelf, holding a plate in front of her.

"Miss, Professor Dumbledore said to give you this for dinner," the house elf said in a tiny squeaky, slightly high-pitched voice. She held out a tray which contained plate of sandwiches and a jug of pumpkin juice towards Hermione.

"Thank you," Hermione said.

"Headmaster Dippet also asked Tippy to give you this, miss," the house elf produced a shrunken trunk from her uniform pocket. "Headmaster Dippet said you need your supplies, so he asked Tippy to bring it to you, miss."

"Thank you, Tippy," said Hermione gently, giving the house elf an affectionate smile.

"Anything more you need, miss" Tippy would be happy to bring it to you, miss," the house elf bowed, before taking a few steps back.

"No, thank you, Tippy. Tell Headmaster Dippet and Professor Dumbledore that I'm very grateful for their consideration, will you?"

"Certainly, miss," Tippy said, before disappearing with another tiny "pop".

Hermione set down the trunk, and picked up the plate of sandwiches. She realized now that she was starving. She had not eaten since this morning, where she last had her breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron. She picked up a sandwich, and munched on it.

After a few more sandwiches, Hermione was full. She picked up the jug of pumpkin juice from the tray that the house elf had brought, and gulped it down thirstily. After that, with a flick of her wand, the tray disappeared.

Next, Hermione sat on the bed, and waved her wand over the trunk.

"Engorgio!" she said, and the trunk began to grow. After it have reached the size Hermione desired, she flicked her wand, and the trunk stopped expanding.

Hermione opened the trunk to find all her supplies in it. There were some potion ingredients, books, quills and Gryfindor robes. There were also some clothes from the 40s' style. Hermione waved her wand over these, and the numbers of the clothing immediately multiplied. Now, she would have more clothes to wear, she noted. Another flick of her wand, and the clothes all folded themselves neatly, and some of them hung themselves in the wardrobe opposite her bed. With another flick of her wand, Hermione's schoolbooks arranged themselves neatly on the shelf beside Hermione's bed. After packing all her things, Hermione smiled.

She emptied the money from a leather bag found in the trunk into the beaded bag, and locked the trunk. Dippet have given her a generous amount of loan, it seemed. This would last until she returns to her time period, she assumed. After keeping her trunk [with the beaded bag and the money pouch tucked neatly inside it] under her bed, Hermione decided to take a shower, before going to bed.

She went into the bathroom. It was large enough for three persons. Various taps were to be found in two large tubs, and soaps and perfumes of all aromas are lined neatly along the tray on top of the washbasin.

Hermione took a deep breath, and started to undress.

"A hot bath is what I needed now," she said.

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Twenty minutes later, Hermione emerged from the bathroom, feeling fresh and comfortable. The warm water was soothing, and the soaps smelled wonderful. With a drying charm, she dried her bushy brown hair, which had become less frizzy after the war. It is easier to tame now.

Hermione slipped on a soft turquoise nightgown and climbed into bed. Perhaps she should get some sleep now, before the psychopath dark lord arrived. Then, she would be ready, just in case he intended to kill her. She would prepare to fight him then. She would not die without a fight.

"This is for my parents," she said in a determined voice.

After rolling about for ten minutes, Hermione found that she was too nervous, and could not close her eyes just yet.

"Perhaps a calming potion would help," she said, getting out of bed. She took out her trunk, unlocked it, and pulled out a bottle of calming potion from her beaded bag. She was lucky to have brought it. Professor Slughorn has asked them to brew this potion last week, in order to help them to calm their nerves for the NEWTs. Hermione swallowed a few gulps, and recapped the bottle.

After five minutes, she felt calm and relaxed. She smiled to herself, and locked her trunk before placing it under her bed. Her muscles were no longer aching now, and her mind was relaxed. She waved her wand around the bed, and the curtains drew shut. She then went on to put up a few wards around her bed, to alert her if the young dark lord was near, or if he tried to attack her.

"Better be safe than sorry," she muttered, putting up the final ward.

After that, Hermione put her wand under her pillow, as a measure of protection. It would be easier if the dark lord decided to attack her, as she would be able to put up a shield or fire hexes at him, if her wand is within her reach. Then, she pulled the covers until it covered her whole body, and lay down on the bed.

A few minutes later, sleep overtook her. Hermione became drowsier as the seconds ticked by, and finally, she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

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** There! Please read and review!

** I'll also like to clarify a few things here.

As all of you know, I made up the part where the head girl's room was inaccessible. I thought it would be a more exciting plot compared to the ordinary plots, where each gets a room to themselves. It is totally AU.

The portrait of the young lady guarding the entrance of the Heads' Dorms was also my own idea, as there was no mention of such a portrait in the HP series. Hope all of you enjoyed it.

^^ Hermione Hean Fui ^^


	5. Chapter 5HEAD BOY AND HEAD GIRL

A/N: I'm getting bored, sitting at home all day. I hope the holidays would end soon, couldn't wait to go back to college! Luckily, this story cured my boredom for a while. So, I think this is really a wonderful way of spending my time. Hope I'll be able to finish up this story before my degree starts in September, as the updates will no doubt be slower when I start my degree, and I hate keeping all of you waiting. So, I'm going to try my best and complete this story before September. If I'm lucky, and finish this fast enough, perhaps I can write another TR/HG fanfiction as I liked impossible pairings [as some of you probably would think that TR/HG is not a nice ship together, as the light and dark side probably do not get along]. Well, I'm going to make it different this time.

Oh, enough of rambling now. Thereby, here you go, a new chapter for today! Please read and review.

Once again, I'm quite disappointed with the number of reviews I got for this story. Please do review, as it will inspire and motivate me to continue this story. Thank you.

On with the story! Enjoy!

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Chapter 5: HEAD BOY AND HEAD GIRL

The Great Hall was filled with students. Most of the older students have already seated themselves at their respective tables. Only the first year students remained outside the Great Hall, waiting to be sorted.

Tom made his way to the Slytherin table, and sat at his usual spot, at the far left end of the table. Nobody would dare to take that seat, as he had already claimed it seven years ago, when he first came to Hogwarts. All the other Slytherins knew that it is not a good idea to mess around with him. Malfoy and his gang seated themselves at the center of the Slytherin table, engaging the Slytherin girls in conversation. Tom did not bother about them. As far as he was concerned, they could talk as much as they liked, as it did not bother him.

The Slytherin girls know how to avoid him. Sometimes, some of them, who could not resist it, giggled and blushed when he looked their way. Tom did not care either. For the past seven years, he has not even had a girlfriend. Not that he mind at all. He would rather sit down quietly in the library or read interesting books to widen his scope of knowledge, rather than going out on stupid dates with girls. However, he would act differently if he was around a professor or Dippet. When a girl smiled at him, he would smile back at them. If no one was around, he just ignores the girls.

Girls from other houses also tried to get close to him, but Tom also ignore them all the same. To him, there was no such thing called love. Love would only make a person weak, and Tom Marvolo Riddle hated weakness. Love was nothing but a silly crush on someone, and one would go all out, sacrificing for another when they are in love, Tom thought. Love was stupid and a waste of time. There is no such thing as true love, for it would bring a person no where near to achieving his or her goals. There is only power, in Tom's opinion.

Nevertheless, sometimes, Tom did feel a bit lonely. There was no one that he could talk to, to share his thoughts with and to advice him on anything that he needed advice on. He could not help feeling a bit taken aback, when he saw students talking happily with each other, students walking down the corridors to classes together and students joking with each other. He sometimes wished that he could join them, just to have a bit of fun. However, this thought was quickly pushed away by Tom to the farthest part of his mind. He should not think about these things. He did not trust anyone, not even Malfoy, although his gang claimed that they were his followers. And friends, in Tom's opinion, are of no real use. Friends may not help one to achieve power and glory, which is what Tom is seeking to do.

A shrill female voice jolted Tom away from his chain of thought.

"Hello Tom," said a voice from opposite him. Tom looked up, and saw Millie Parkinson, the Slytherin prefect, smiling broadly at him. "How was your holiday?"

"Fine, Parkinson," he replied in a cold voice.

"Oh," Parkinson said, giving Tom another smile. She flicked her long black hair away from her face, and turned away, giggling.

"Excuse me, what's so funny, Parkinson?" Tom said, getting slightly irritated. Parkinson was getting on his nerves since Fourth Year.

"Nothing, Tom. It's just that I missed you, you know? I've haven't see you for so long," Parkinson said, turning back to face Tom.

Tom scowled at this. Anyone who has sense would instantly back away, but Parkinson was pushing her luck further by blushing. At this, Tom's patience snapped. He glared at Parkinson, and said in a cold voice: "Parkinson, I don't do formalities, so, if you'll excuse me, I would politely ask you not to bother me anymore tonight, as I've a terrible headache."

Parkinson's face fell, and disappointment was written all over it. Tom really did not care about this. He had better things on his mind, rather than silly girl crushes and all that kind of nonsense.

"Fine, Tom. I understand," she said finally, in a defeated tone, and turned back towards her gang of girls, who were all gossiping away happily.

Tom looked around him. He smirked. He was pleased with himself to have shaken off Parkinson so easily. He was also proud that he has this effect on everybody. Everybody would fear him when he was angry, and Tom was enjoying this form of hold and advantage that he has over his housemates.

The Great Hall was filled up by now. Professor Dumbledore brought the first year students in, and they have already formed a line. A few minutes later, Dippet and all the other staff were seated at the long staff table, and the sorting ceremony started.

Dumbledore placed the sorting hat at in front of the line, and unrolled a scroll of parchment. He began to call out names. Each student walked forward timidly, took the hat, put it on their heads and waited patiently on the stool while the hat shouted out their respective houses.

Tom watched this with a bored expression on his face. This was the same for every year. He only looked up when some of the new students are sorted into his own house. However, he did not cheered for them as Malfoy and his gang did. He merely forced a smile on his face, as a form of welcoming the new Slytherins into their house.

Finally, after the last student have been sorted [into Gryfindor], Tom noted with disapproval, Dumbledore flicked his wrist, and the stool and sorting hat disappeared. Dippet stood up to make his announcements. He had to wave his hands for a few times and called out loudly before the students paid attention to him.

"Welcome!" he said in his same bored baritone, that Tom disliked. "Welcome to another new year to Hogwarts!"

"Firstly, I, Armando Dippet, as Headmaster of Hogwarts, would like to welcome the first year students to our wonderful school. Hope all of you would like it here. Enjoy your school year! And to our older students, welcome back to another enjoyable year at Hogwarts. I hope all of you have a delightful holiday."

Having said that, Dippet paused for a while.

"Now, before the feast began, I'll like to make a few important announcements.

First year students are reminded that the forbidden forest is strictly out of bounds. Anyone who is found sneaking around that area would be given severe detention.

Quidditch practices will begin on the third week of the term. Those who wished to join the team can see their Head of House later to discuss the matter.

Lastly, before we began our feast, I would like to announce the Head Boy and Head Girl for this year."

At this, the whole hall turned their attention fully on Dippet. Tom, who have tuned Dippet out for the last five minutes tuned in again. Dippet had owled him during the summer, informing him that he would be the Head Boy, but he was interested to know who will be Head Girl this year. At first, he doubted that Hogwarts would have a Head Girl, since the incident last year, where Elisha Greengrass had cursed the door to the Head Girl's room. Tom was quite happy at that, as he thought he would be able to take full control, as Head Boy, without having to share any responsibilities with another person. By this way, his plans would be carried out smoothly, without interference from anyone. Have the teachers managed to unlock the door? He hoped that he had heard Dippet wrongly.

"The Head Boy for this year is…Tom Riddle from Slytherin House!" Dippet announced proudly, flashing Tom a broad smile.

Tom got up and walked to the front to receive his Head Boy badge from Dippet. The other students clapped loudly. A few girls giggled excitedly and started to chat animatedly to their friends.

"Congratulations, Tom!" Slughorn said, patting him on the back, as he walked back to his seat, after pinning his badge to his uniform.

"Thank you, professor," Tom replied, giving Slughorn a small smile.

Yes, Tom really knows how to work his way around all the teachers. He would put up his good-student act when it is necessary. No one would ever suspect him of anything.

"And now, I would like to announce the Head Girl for this year," Dippet said. The students turned their attention back to Dippet.

"I would like to inform all of you that Hogwarts have accepted another student, who transferred from France. Owing to certain circumstances, she was home schooled for the past few years. During last month, her home was attacked by Grindawald and she lost all her family members and friends. I'll ask all of you to not ask her questions about it, as it would no doubt upset her. Although this student was home schooled, she sat for the OWLs and have studied a few advanced subjects on her own. I myself have tested her, and her results were very good indeed."

By now, all the students have quieted down, and gave their full attention to Dippet. Tom was also surprised. A new girl? Why haven't he seen her yet? He looked around the Great Hall, but did not see any new face.

"So, I've decided to make her Head Girl for this year. However, as all of you may have wondered that Hogwarts may not have a Head Girl, after the incident last year. No, we haven't managed to unlock the door to the Head Girl's room yet, and we're still working on it. So, I decided that the Head Boy and Head Girl are going to share a room, which Professor Dumbledore has kindly agreed to enlarge this afternoon. It is not possible for our Head Boy to shoulder all the responsibilities alone, so I think that a Head Girl is still necessary."

Tom clenched his fist tightly. The last thing he needed was sharing a room with another person, especially a girl. It would be more difficult for him to carry out his plans, if someone was always near him. Of course that old fool Dumbledore would gladly helped to enlarge the room, as he would have someone else to keep an eye on Tom. Tom is willing to bet that Dumbledore have suggested this to Dippet. Dippet would not be such a considerate person, as Tom knows.

Dippet continued his speech, and Tom's attention snap back to him.

"She has already been sorted into Gryfindor house this afternoon. However, Professor Dumbledore have informed me that she is not well after her long journey here, and is unable to attend the feast. She is currently resting in the Heads' Dorms, and would join us tomorrow. Therefore, a formal introduction will be done on tomorrow morning. I ask all of you to welcome your Head Girl to our school and do show her some respect.

And now, having said this, let the feast began!" Dippet said, finally sitting down again.

The food appeared on the plates, and all the students started to eat. Tom cut into his steak angrily. Damn. He would have to do something now, perhaps frame the Head Girl in some crime, and get her expelled out of the school. There is no way she would share a room with him, he noted. He will get rid of her as fast as possible, before his plans were ruined.

Later, the food disappeared, and dessert appeared. Students tucked into treacle tarts, caramel tarts, Yorkshire pudding and ice-cream. Tom only took some vanilla ice-cream, as he was not in an appetite to eat much that night. He was very angry. He needed to let his anger out on something or someone before the night was over. All his plans for this year are slightly affected. However, Tom is confident that as soon he is able to find a way to get rid of the Head Girl, he would do so. For now, he would just have to cope with the situation as best as possible.

Tom finished his food quickly, and planned to go to the library. He was in a rather bad temper. He needed to take a few books at the restricted section tonight, as planned. He has spotted the books last summer, but students are not allowed to bring library books back home, and Tom would not risk it by stealing those books, as he would probably be expelled if it was found out.

He walked of the Great Hall, and headed down the corridors. He walked slowly until he reached the library. If there was one place that he loved the most, it is the Hogwarts library. He considered this as his sanctuary, as students often do not come here, except for some Ravenclaws, to complete their work or do some extra reading. The rest of the students would simply not bother to study until it is nearly exam time. Thus, Tom would have the library all to himself all the time, and he often picked corners which were unoccupied, as he loved to work alone. No one would dare to disturb him, as they know far too well not to mess around with him. He can be very nasty at times, and the students all feared him.

Tom entered the library, and walked quickly to the restricted section. He made his way to the isle which he last saw the books were situated. Having found the corner, he smiled satisfactorily.

He pullout three thick, dusty tombs from the top shelf, and started to make his way out of the library.

Dippet was just making his closing speech when Tom returned to the Great Hall.

"…and off you go to bed. Good night, students!" Dippet's voice rang out throughout the Great Hall. The scraping of chairs can be heard, as students began to make their way out of the Great Hall. The prefects began to show the first year students to their dormitories. Tom gathers up the three books more tightly under his arms, and started to walk out of the Great Hall alone, after most of the students have left.

Tom made his way to the Owlery. He decided that torturing an owl would be the best way to let out his anger. He walked into the Owlery, and roughly pulled an owl from one of the perches. The brown barn owl hooted in disapproval, but Tom did not care.

"Crucio!"

The owl began to twitch and screeched uncontrollably. Tom continued to torture the owl. He felt pleasure washing over him, as he watched the owl suffer.

Finally, he lifted the curse. The owl tried to fly up to its perch again, but Tom flicked his wand once more.

"Crucio!"

After ten more minutes, Tom felt satisfied.

"Avada kadevra!" he said, and a flash of blinding green light flew towards the owl. It hit the bird before it can screech another time, and it drop dead on the ground.

"Evanesco!" the owl vanished. Tom smirked. He was feeling better now. He started to walk out of the Owlery.

The chatter of students has died down by now. Tom made his way along the quiet corridors, until he reached the seventh floor. There, he started to walk towards the Heads' Dorms.

He stopped in front of the dormitory, which was guarded by the portrait of the Pink Lady, as he liked to call her. The pearl in her left hand gleamed beautifully at certain times, he sometimes noted, and her long and elegant velvet gown fanned out below her waist, making her look more charming to some people that looked at her. However, Tom thought she was just an ordinary portrait, and it made no difference to him.

"Password, dear?" the portrait smiled at him sweetly.

"Caput Draconis," Tom said, without emotion in his voice.

The portrait swung aside, and Tom stepped into the Heads' common room. He surveyed the room for a while, and after a few minutes, he put down the three books that he have just take out from the library on the armchair beside the fireplace.

Tom was very excited. He was going to read the books as fast as he could. These books would perhaps give him more information on how to create more horcruxes.

He picked up the books and ran his fingers over the titles, engraved in gold letters on the covers.

"Secrets of the Darkest Arts", "Magic's Darkest Potential" and "Dark Magic and Its Greatest Seductions", the three books titles read. Tom decided to read the first book before reading the others. He put the other two books on the other armchair beside him, and started to dust off the cover of? Secrets of the Darkest Arts".

He seated himself more comfortably on the couch at the other corner of the room, and started to read the books. He would just read a few pages, before going to bed. However, as he began to read more from the book, his interest became more and more caught up, and he keep reading on.

"Once a horcrux has been created, the fragment of the soul would remain in the object. However, if the horcrux is destroyed, the master of the soul will be at a disadvantage, as he/she could not feel it at all. Nevertheless, the horcrux would react to any attack, e.g. by preventing itself from being destroyed by possessing the person who tried to destroy it and etc. Thus far, there has not been any history of creation of horcruxes. Witches and wizards believed that this is extremely dark magic, thus straying away from this field of knowledge.

A human's soul can only be split for a number of times. However, the exact number is unknown. If the master of the soul split his soul more than he/she was supposed to, it would result in fatal death. The hope of being immortal would be fruitless, if this was the case. Thus, care must be taken before splitting the soul."

Tom turned to the next page, and began to read again. This book was very interesting indeed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione was running down the corridors of the Department of Mysteries, looking for Harry and Ron.

"Harry!" Hermione called out. There was no answer.

She turned and ran in the opposite direction. Curses were flying in every direction. The Death Eaters are now fighting the members of the Order. She must get out of there fast, after finding Harry and Ron.

Suddenly, her path was blocked by a hooded Death Eater.

"Where are you going, Mudblood?" the Death Eater asked, in a cackling voice.

"Stupefy!" Hermione cassted, aiming directly at the Death Eater. Taken by surprise, he had no time to raise his wand, and Hermione's stunner hit him squarely on the chest. The Death Eater collapsed on the floor, unconscious.

The scene changed. Hermione was being captured along with Harry and Ron. They were brought to Malfoy Manor. Belatrix Lestrange was now standing over Hermione, pointing her wand at her.

"Now, Mudblood, you will answer my questions," the madwoman cackled.

Hermione shivered. She was frightened, but she was determined not to say a word. She was not going to give the satisfaction that Belatrix desired. After all that Harry, Ron and she have done so much, she would not give up without a fight.

"How did the three of you have the sword?"

"I don't remember," Hermione said, in a brave voice.

"Liar! Crucio!"

Hermione began to twitch. Her whole body was burning and her bones were aching. She screamed, and screamed. After a few minutes, Belatrix lifted off the curse.

"Now, perhaps this little teaser would help. Now, tell me, mudblood. Where did the three of you have the sword?"

"Please!" Hermione started to scream. "No!" Tears were streaming down her cheeks now. Her lips were bleeding, as she has bitten down on them accidentally. The pain was unbearable. Hermione closed her eyes, and took a few shallow breaths.

"Crucio!" Belatrix Lestrange was merciless. Hermione began to twitch and scream again. "I'll not stop until I've gotten the truth out of you, Mudblood!" Hermione could hear Belatrix's loud cackling laughter.

"Please!" Hermione began to scream louder. Belatrix merely laughed.

"Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione jerked awake, panting. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She was tangled in her covers. She sat up, and began to calm herself. She had just been having another terrible nightmare again. She wiped the tears away from her eyes, and glanced about her.

She took out her wand from under her pillow, and flicked it. A long, red ribbon shot out from her wand, and began to twist itself into red letters, showing the date and time.

September 2 1944, 0500 hours

Hermione stretched on the bed. Today, she would be attending classes. She needs to get down breakfasting for the formal introduction. And, she would have to be preparing to meet the young dark lord.

Suddenly, Hermione sat up. A thought just occurred to her. She was currently sharing a room with the young dark lord. Was he sleeping in this room now?

Shivers ran down her spine, as she thought about this. No, perhaps she should get back to bed, and wake up later. However, Hermione can no longer sleep now that she was awake.

Cautiously, Hermione began to lower the wards that she has castled around her bed last night. Then, silently, trying not to make any noise, she drew open her curtains, and peered out cautiously.

The room was as it is when she entered last night. There was no sign of another person in the room. Silently, Hermione tiptoed to the opposite side of the room, where the Head Boy's bed was situated. There was a trunk at the bottom of the bed, but the bed was unoccupied. Hermione glanced once more to make sure before turning back to her side of the room.

Was the young dark lord an early riser too? Or had he noticed her last night? Hermione was feeling disturbed as this thought entered her mind. She started to undress, and headed to the bathroom for another hot bath.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione emerged from the bathroom, toweling her hair dry. She dressed quickly, and rummaged in her trunk for the calming potion. She definitely needed to calm her nerves again, before the lessons of the day started.

Hermione was glad that the young dark lord was no where near her now. She could not help herself from being curious. Where would he go during such early hours? Perhaps the forbidden forest? She itched to find out more, just to ease her curiosity, but thought better of it. Lord Voldemort was not a person that she wished to mess with. She would not risk her life by sticking her nose in his business. She should instead quickly find a way to get back to her own time, before anymore flaws to the timeline is created. Hermione knew that she had done enough damage already.

Hermione gathered up the things that she would need, and stuffed it into a bag that Dippet had given her as a schoolbag. She then locked her trunk, and put up wards around it, before placing it beside her bed. She picked up her wand, and put it in her robe pocket. Then, she looked at herself in the mirror.

Hermione have grown a few more inches after the war. She was now slightly taller, and her hair was less frizzy. Her brown curls hung down her back in an elegant manner. A dimple had also appeared on her cheek, and she looked more beautiful now. She had even grown slimmer, and she now has all the curves in the right places. Her waist looked more elegant, and she walked with a beautiful grace [although she did not notice this]. However, the sparkle that is always present in her brown, hazel eyes was no longer there. It had disappeared along with her parents' death. Hermione no longer was the cheerful person who liked to share all her thoughts with Harry and Ron since then. She always kept to herself, and sometimes bottled all the emotion inside her. She did not want Harry and Ron to worry too much about her, so she would pretend that everything was alright, and she was able to cope with the situation. When she was alone at night, Hermione sometimes cried herself to sleep, or she would have those worse nightmares over and over again.

Hermione smiled at her own reflection. Even Draco Malfoy had stopped teasing her about her hair a few weeks ago. Everyone was surprised to see the change in Hermione. Ginny had thought that Hermione is growing to become a beautiful woman, but Hermione had pushed this thought aside. She planned to concentrate on her studies, as the NEWTs were approaching in a few months time. She would deal with boys and marriage later, she had told Ginny. The redhead just gave Hermione an exasperated look, before stalking off to find Harry.

Hermione blinked back her tears. She missed Harry and Ron. She wished she could get back as fast as possible. She should apologize to them, and made it up to Ron. They could still be friends after all.

"I'll get back," she said in a determined voice, before turning away from the mirror. She would go to the library if she has any free period today, she thought to herself.

Hermione picked up her bag, and started to make her way out of the room. She opened the door of the room, and stepped outside. She took a deep breath, and started to make her way down the staircase.

Hermione had to stop herself from gasping when she reached the bottom landing. She covered her mouth with her hands, and tried to calm herself. Her knees were beginning to buckle slightly. She took a few steps back, and sat down on the bottom step of the staircase.

The fire in the commonroom was still crackling merrily, and there, at the far corner of the room, a figure was sprawled on the couch. By first glance, Hermione knew that this was the future dark lord, after Harry and Ginny's countless description.

Hermione glanced at him. The young dark lord had probably fallen asleep on the couch, snoring loudly. Hermione chuckled at that. The thought of the darkest wizard of all times snoring away and sleeping in such a vulnerable position amused her. She noticed that he was reading a thick leather-bound book. He had probably fallen asleep while reading. The book had slipped from his hands, and had fallen onto the floor. Hermione noticed that there are also two more books on the armchair beside the fireplace.

Curiosity overtook her. Perhaps she should check out what the young Voldemort was reading. Cautiously, she put a charm on her shoes, so that they made no sound at all. She tiptoed silently to the armchair near the fireplace. She picked up one of the books, and skimmed its title.

"Magic's Greatest Potential" the first book read, whilst the second was "Dark Magic and Its Greatest Seductions".

The bookworm spirit rose in Hermione, and she began to get excited. These books were not there during her time. Perhaps it contained more information about horcruxes and other forms of dark magic. The young dark lord was probably studying how to make more horcruxes. Hermione wanted to read these books, just for the sake of gaining more knowledge. No one can stop her from quenching her thirst for knowledge.

Perhaps she can also use some of the dark magic inside here as a form of protection, before she gets back. She would ensure that nobody would be able to harm her [except young Voldemort, of course]. Hermione did not care much of delving into dark magic. Harry, Ron and she had agreed that learning dark magic is necessary after the war, and the three of them had started to gather all kinds of books from various wizarding libraries around the world about dark magic. Hermione smiled at that thought. She would sit for hours, reading these books until late into the night, and share this knowledge with Harry and Ron, who sadly did not find reading a pleasurable way to spend their time. They preferred to play Quidditch, Exploding Snap or wizard's chess to pass their time.

She glanced towards the snoring young Voldemort again. He was sleeping soundly, and had not moved at all. Carefully, Hermione took out her wand from her pocket and waved it at the two books.

"Geminio!" Hermione thought and copies of the two books appeared. Hermione knew that it would only last for a few days, and she was sure that she would be able to read it before it disappeared.

She have done some research to strengthen the charm, thus the books would last longer than usual. She has thus far managed to extend the effect of this spell for a period of five days. This meant that she would have five days to read the books, and find out what the young dark lord was currently reading.

With a satisfied smile, Hermione took the copies that she had made and stuffed it into her beaded bag, which she carried along with her as a precaution. She then replaced the other two books on the armchair, and turned to walk out of the commonroom. As she passed the couch, she noticed the third book again.

"Should I make a copy of this too?" Hermione asked herself. She was not sure whether she should take the risk, as it would perhaps alert the young dark lord.

"It's no harm trying though," Hermione said, tiptoeing nearer to the couch.

She glanced once more at the young dark lord. He was still sleeping soundly. Hermione could not help noticing that he had quite a handsome face. His black hair was slightly messy, no doubt the result of sleeping on the couch for God knows for how long, Hermione thought. He was tall, and has pale skin. Hermione thought he looked like a waxed doll. He has long, thin fingers which are as pale as his skin. His right hand was stretched out, extending towards the book on the floor. He had no doubt thrown the book on the floor, or it had slipped from his grasp, Hermione noted. His left hand was placed on his uniform pocket, no doubt where he kept his want, Hermione noted again.

At least this is better than the twisted, snake-face of Lord Voldemort, which would be his future in just a few more decades from now.

Hermione gazed at the sleeping face again. He looked so peaceful and innocent when he was asleep.

"Pity. Wonder how someone so handsome and looked so innocent would turn into that evil monster in the future," Hermione muttered softly to herself, before turning away. She picked up the book on the floor, and waved her wand and cast the spell non-verbally.

"Geminio!" she thought, and a copy of the book appeared. Hermione quickly picked it up, and stuffed the book into her beaded back.

"Mission accomplished!" she screamed inwardly, happy with herself. She started to make her way out of the commonroom.

In her excitement, Hermione failed to look where she was going, and accidentally her legs hit a large porcelain vase, at the corner of the room. It was placed there as a decoration. Hermione took in a sharp intake of breath. Pain shot through her left leg. Her left leg was now bruised.

"Damn!" Hermione said, in a voice that was much too loud. "Stupid vase!" Hermione kicked the vase furiously. The sound of her foot connecting with the porcelain echoed loudly throughout the commonroom, but Hermione was lucky that the vase did not break.

She realized her mistake too late.

There was sudden movement from the couch.

Damn. Hermione thought. The young dark lord started to stir. Hermione immediately picked up her bag, and started to run out of the commonroom.

The last thing she saw before the portrait hole closed behind her was a slightly confused young Voldemort, sitting upright on the couch, and looking around him. She hurried past the portrait of the young lady, who looked slightly taken aback, as Hermione had pushed her aside roughly. She sprinted down the staircase quickly and ran all the way to the Great Hall. When she reached there, she let out a sigh of relief, and made her way to the Gryfindor table.

"I'm going to get kill if I continued to act like this," Hermione panted breathlessly. "Get a grip on yourself, Hermione Jean Granger!"

After calming down, Hermione looked around her. The Great Hall was still empty. She would have a quick breakfast, before the others arrived. Then, Dippet would perhaps introduce her to the whole school. Hermione started to get nervous at this thought.

After a few more minutes of turning possibilities in her mind, Hermione sighed and started to pile her plate with eggs, bacon and sausages. She poured herself a glass of pumpkin juice from the jug nearby, and started to eat.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

** There! Chapter 5 is done! Please do read and review! Hope all of you liked it! Feel free to give me suggestions to improve this story!

^^ Hermione Hean Fui ^^


	6. Chapter 6THE FIRST ENCOUNTER

A/N: Hey! Couldn't believe that I actually completed two chapters today. So, I'm updating another new chapter now. What to do? I really have no other things to do. I'm bored, so this story keeps me occupied for the time being.

My siblings still have school, so it's impossible for my parents to bring me for a vacation. I wish I'll have plans soon, as I'm really, really, really, bored!

Anyway, here's a new chapter. Enjoy!

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Chapter 6: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER

Tom jerked awake when he heard a loud thump. He rubbed his eyes using the back of his right hand, and stretched. He had fallen asleep on the couch in the commonroom, he realized, and the book had dropped onto the floor.

Damn. He should be more careful. He had intended to go to bed a few hours after he read the book, but the book was so interesting that he couldn't stop himself from reading more. He had fallen asleep when drowsiness overtook him.

He had also intended to check on the new Head Girl, to find out more about her. Now, Tom was sure that she had made that loud sound that has awakened him. He pushed himself into a sitting position, and glanced around him. At the corner of his eyes, he saw the portrait hole closed just in time, after a small figure ran out hurriedly out of the room.

"What was she up to?" Tom could not help wondering. He would have to find out later. He gathered up his books, and made his way up the staircase to his room.

He stuffed all three books into a hidden compartment in his trunk, and started to unpack his things. After that, he went into the bathroom for a quick shower to get ready for the day. He would have to deal with the Head Girl later.

As he was walking out of the commonroom, he caught sight of the other bed at the corner of the room, decorated in Gryfindor colours. He made his way quietly and observed the bed. The bed was made up neatly, with the quilt neatly folded and the covers neatly pulled over the bed. The pillows were arranged beautifully too. Tom surveyed the Head Girl's corner of the bed. A large trunk lay at the foot of the bed. Tom decided that he would check it out later.

He made his way out of the commonroom. The morning was warm, as usual, and the last traces of summer were still in the air. Even though autumn had arrived, the castle was still warm, in Tom's opinion. He walked past all the portraits on the seventh floor and started to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast. As it was still early, there were not much students wandering about in the corridors.

Tom sighed. He would normally rise early, as he loved the peace and quietness of the castle. He hated it when students wandered along corridors, bumping into each other and talking loudly. The sound of their happy chatter made him sick.

He entered the Great Hall, and started to walk towards the Slytherin table. Not surprisingly, he was the earliest student to arrive at the breakfast table. A few Ravenclaws were chatting happily, while enjoying their breakfast.

Tom began to pile food onto his plate. Then, he sat down and started to eat his breakfast. Eventually, his glance settled on the Gryfindor table.

Dippet said that the new Head Girl have already been sorted into Gryfindor, and Tom was sure she had already wake up, due to the noise she made just now. He scanned the table more closely. There was no sign of a new face.

Tom growled in frustration, and his hands clenched into fists. He finished his breakfast in a hurry. Then, he took out a textbook, and began to read.

A few minutes later, more students began to file into the Great Hall. Tom did not even looked up, when Malfoy and his gang arrived at the table, chatting happily among themselves. He continued to read his book, absent-mindedly tapping his long, thin fingers on the table.

"Hey, I can't wait to see our new Head Girl!" Malfoy was telling the others.

"Come on, Abraxas. Do you have a crush on Gryfindors?" Lestrange teased, slapping Malfoy hard on the shoulders.

"Aw! What's that for, Maximus? I'm merely interested, that's all," Malfoy grinned sheepishly, playfully hitting Lestrange on the head.

"Do you think she is a beautiful one?" Crabbe asked excitedly, joining in the conversation.

"Hope so," Abraxas said, smiling mischievously. "But I doubt that I'm going to shag her anyway. You know, a typical Gryfindor. Father would have a heart attack if i ever date a Gryfindor."

The others laughed at this. Malfoy snickered.

"Hey! What are all of you talking about?" Millie Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls arrived, looking fresh and prepared for the day.

Tom turned up his nose with disgust. The shampoos and perfumes that the girls put on were too strong, and he could not stand it. He sneezed, and took out a handkerchief from his robe pocket. The girls giggled at this.

"Hello Tom," Parkinson said, as greeting. "How's your headache today?"

"Better," Tom said coldly. "I think I'll get a more severe one if the air is excessively fragranced with girls' perfumes."

"Oh, come on Tom," Parkinson said, giving him an exasperated look. "Don't be so mean. You're no fun at all."

"Cut it, Parkinson," Tom snapped irritably. "I'm not in the mood to discuss this topic today. Can you please leave me alone?"

"As you wish, tom," Parkinson said, slightly taken aback. She turned back to her gang of giggling girls and started to pile food onto her plate, ignoring Tom completely. Tom was glad about this. He hoped that the girl would stop bothering him before his patience snapped, and he would have to "crucio" her into insanity.

"Anyway, what's the story?" Tom heard Parkinson asking Malfoy and his gang.

"Just wondering about the new Head Girl," Lestrange said, giving Lucricia Black, his girlfriend, a shy smile.

"Oh?" Parkinson said. "I bet she is not good-looking. You know, just a typical Gryfindor," she snorted, and her gang of girls laughed. Lucricia had walked towards Lestrange, and slapped him playfully on the shoulders.

"Aw! That hurts, girl, what's that for, anyway?" Lestrange asked, clutching his shoulders, and grinned at his girlfriend.

"Don't you dare look for other girls, Maximus!" Lucricia said playfully. "I'm your girlfriend, remember?"

"Okay, okay. Calm down, darling. I'm just kidding," Lestrange said, stroking Lucricia's long black hair, which hung straight down her back. "Who would date a Gryfindor in their right mind?"

The others laughed at this.

Just then, Dippet entered the Great Hall, and all the students quieted down. Tom snapped his book shut, and looked up.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After having her breakfast, Hermione decided to go to the library, as it was still early in the morning. She should have some time to do her research, before classes for that day started.

She was about to walked out of the Great Hall, when someone gently put a hand on her shoulders. She jumped, and turned around to find a pair of twinkling blue eyes looking at her.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said, smiling apologetically. "Did I give you a surprise?"

"No, not at all, professor," Hermione said. "I was just thinking about something else."

"I see. Do you have a moment, Ms. Granger? Headmaster Dippet would introduce you to the school later at breakfast. He had asked me to give you your schedule in advance."

Dumbledore reached into his robe pockets, and pulled out a scroll of parchment. He held it out towards Hermione. Hermione took it, and unrolled the scroll of parchment. She scanned it quickly. She would be taking all the advanced subjects, save Devonation, which she was glad.

"Is there anything else, professor?" Hermione asked after a while.

"No, Ms. Granger. I hope you enjoy your day," Dumbledore said, his twinkling eyes staring straight at Hermione.

Hermione looked away quickly. He was afraid that Dumbledore would be able to tell that she was lying, as he was a skilled legilimans. She pretended to study her schedule for another time.

"Ms. Granger?" Dumbledore said suddenly, jolting Hermione out of her thoughts.

"Yes, professor?" Hermione said, in a slightly high-pitched voice.

"Is there something that you wished to tell me?" Dumbledore said, fixing Hermione with a questioning look.

Hermione quickly masked her panic by smiling at Dumbledore. Had he managed somehow to read her thoughts?

"No, professor. Nothing at all. Everything is fine," she said, trying to sound confident.

Dumbledore gave her another look before turning away.

"When you're ready, Ms. Granger, you can see me at my office, and tell me about it," he said.

"About what, professor?" Hermione tried to sound confused.

"How's the future like, Ms. Granger?" Dumbledore asked in a quiet voice, giving her a knowing smile.

Hermione clutched her bag more tightly. Dumbledore had figured it out already. Her cover was blown. Slowly, he looked into the twinkling blue eyes of the old man.

"You know, professor?" Hermione could not stop herself any longer.

"Know what, my dear girl?" Dumbledore turned around to face her again, smiling broadly.

"You know that I lied to Headmaster Dippet," Hermione blurted out before she could stop herself again.

"Yes, my dear girl, I figured it out after you left," Dumbledore said. "Apparently, it turned out that you're not careful enough, Ms. Granger."

What? Hermione could not believe her ears. Has she somehow slipped out some information in Dippet's office yesterday?

"Professor, I don't understand…"

Dumbledore put a hand on Hermione's shoulder, and started to guide her out of the Great Hall.

"Not here, Ms. Granger," he guided her along the corridor, until they reached an empty corridor, where the classrooms were situated. He unlocked one of the classroom doors and ushered Hermione inside.

Then, Dumbledore bolted the door.

"Colloportus!" Dumbledore muttered, waving his wand and locking the door.

"Muffliato!" he casted next.

After ensuring that their conversation would not be heard, Dumbledore stepped into the center of the classroom, and observed Hermione.

"Remember the box that you gave Headmaster Dippet as a gift?" Dumbledore asked.

It was then that Hermione realized her mistake.

"You carved the word Gryfindor beside your name. Headmaster Dippet have not given much thought to this, but I've observed it. He told me that you gave him that box before you're sorted. So, I assume that you're familiar with Hogwarts?"

"Yes, professor," Hermione said in a small voice. If only she would be more careful, her cover would not have been blown.

"So, I'm assuming that you're a time traveler?" Dumbledore asked, still fixing Hermione with a questioning look. "I gather that you're quite familiar with the castle. I've only shown you around once, but you seemed to know your way well enough around here."

"Yes, professor. I'm from 1998."

"Indeed. How have you journeyed so far back?" Dumbledore asked with surprise.

Hermione considered her options. Should she tell Dumbledore about it now?

Finally, Hermione made her decision." Professor, you must understand," Hermione said finally, after pondering her options. "I'll try to tell you as much as possible, but I do hope you know the rules of time traveling."

"Indeed, I do, Ms. Granger. Relax, I'll not ask you to tell me anything about the future. You can tell me as much as you thing is necessary," Dumbledore said.

So, Hermione began her story. She began with the part where she first attended Hogwarts, meeting Harry and Ron, the battle that took place [leaving as much details out as possible], and how it had ended. She ended her story by telling Dumbledore about the mysterious potion.

"Interesting," Dumbledore said. "Mixing a few potions together. I wonder…"

"Professor, can you help me to get back? I hope I've not done much damage to the timeline," Hermione said.

Dumbledore looked at her for a few seconds, then lowered his gaze. He rubbed his palms together, and sighed.

"I'm happy to offer you my help, Ms. Granger. But you must understand that the way that you get here was so unusual. I'll need some time to research about this."

"Certainly, professor. In fact, I'm thinking of doing some research myself at the library, and get back as fast as possible," Hermione said.

"Good. You can find out as much as you can. I'll give you a pass to the restricted section," Dumbledore said.

At this, Hermione's heart skipped a bit. She was glad that Dumbledore was willing to help her.

"I'll see you in my office every Friday. We can meet after dinner on Fridays and discuss and share our findings," Dumbledore continued.

"Thank you, professor," Hermione said, giving Dumbledore an appreciative smile.

"You may go now," Dumbledore said, waving his wand, and the door was unbolted.

"Thank you, professor," Hermione said.

"Make sure to get back to the Great Hall, your formal introduction will begin soon," Dumbledore said, closing the door quietly behind him as he walked out of the classroom.

"Will do, professor," Hermione said, walking down the corridor. She felt the burden has lifted off slightly of her shoulders. Now, Dumbledore was helping her to get back. She hoped that they would be able to complete the research fast, and sent her back to her own time.

She bumped into Dippet while making her way down the corridor that lead to the Great Hall.

"Ms. Granger, what a pleasure," Dippet said, extending his hand. Hermione shook his hand warmly. "Come, I'll introduce you to the whole school now."

And with that, Dippet ushered Hermione into the Great Hall.

The students' chatter immediately died down, as Dippet entered the Great Hall, Hermione trailing behind him.

Hermione felt nauseous suddenly. The breakfast that she had just eaten about an hour ago threatened to push its way back up her throat. Thousands pair of eyes are staring at her, and students started to whisper excitedly.

Dippet guided Hermione to the staff table, and gestured to her to stand beside him. Hermione walked to Dippet's side, trying to ignore the glances the other students were giving her.

"Attention! Quiet down, students!" Dippet shouted. Hermione noticed that it took Dippet slightly longer to calm the students down, before they paid attention to him.

"This," Dippet said, pointing to Hermione who was standing beside him, "is your new Head Girl for this year. I would ask all of you to welcome Ms. Merope Granger into Hogwarts. As I've already told all of you, she has already been sorted into Gryfindor house. I hope all of you will give her respect and offer her any help if she needed it, as she is new here."

Everybody was craning their necks forward, to look at her. Hermione felt slightly dizzy now, as she was not used to be in the spotlight like Harry.

"There you go, my dear," Dippet said, pushing Hermione towards the Gryfindor table, after pinning the Head Girl badge on her uniform.

Hermione straightened up. She was going to make the best out of the situation. And with that thought in mind, Hermione walked with a confident gait towards the Gryfindor table. She sat down at the center of the table.

Immediately, the Gryfindors began to introduce themselves to her. They were as warm and as welcoming as the other Gryfindors back in her time.

A girl with long black hair that have been tied back into a ponytail, and with a slightly stern face stood up, and shook Hermione's hands.

"Hi. Welcome to Hogwarts. I'm Minerva McGonagall, seventh year Gryfindor prefect," she said. Hermione blinked. Of course, this is the younger version of Professor McGonagall. Hermione could see that Professor McGonagall looked exactly the same back in her time, except that more wrinkles and lines have appeared on her face, and she looked slightly older.

"Hi. I'm Merope Granger. Nice to meet you," Hermione took her professor's hand and gave it a warm shake.

"I'm Mariana Brown," another girl chimed in. She looked exactly like Lavender Brown. Perhaps this was her grandmother.

Hermione was further introduced to a few more seventh year girls. She realized that most of her friends' ancestors attended Hogwarts at this time period. There was Rebecca Bell, who looked like Katie Bell, and Lucy Johnson, who looked like Angelina Johnson, the Gryfindor Quidditch chasers.

Hermione was so happy. She had made a lot of friends on that morning.

"Oi, boys!" Mariana called out to a group of five boys, who were just arriving for breakfast at the Great Hall. "Over here! Meet our new Head Girl!"

Instantly, Hermione blushed slightly as five pairs of eyes turned and looked at her.

"Hi. Nice to meet you. I'm Derrick Thomas," a boy that looked like Dean Thomas said, extending his hands.

"Merope Granger," Hermione said. "Pleasure meeting you."

"Oi, Derrick! Give us a chance!" another boy shouted. Hermione looked at him. She blinked. It was impossible.

"Ron?" Hermione said, before she could stop herself. The boy was standing in front of her now, with a confused look on his face. He has freckles all over his face, and flaming red hair, just like Ron. However, Hermione noticed that his eyes were brown, and were not Ron's blue ones.

"I'm sorry, what did you call me?" he asked, confusion still evident in his voice.

"Err…I'm sorry. You reminded me of a friend," Hermione said, hoping that she did not sound too sad. She missed Ron. She wished he was beside her now. She would be having quite some fun, bickering with him.

"Oh?" the boy said, flashing Hermione a smile. "Name's Bilius Weasley, by the way. Does your friend happened to be a Weasley too?" he joked, grinning at Hermione.

"Merope Granger," Hermione said, giving the boy's hand a firm shakes. "And, no. My friend had another surname."

"Hey, Bill, what's up?" the third boy in the gang joined them.

For the second time that day, Hermione was taken by surprise. There, standing beside Bilius, was a boy, which is the exact replica of Harry. He had the same messy, jet-black hair and face as Harry's, except for his eyes, of course. There were blue, instead of Harry's emerald green eyes.

"Hey, Charles. Meet our new Head Girl, Merope Granger," Bilius said, cheerfully.

"Charles Potter, captain of Gryfindor Quidditch team. Nice to meet you, Ms. Granger," he said, extending his hand.

"Call me her…I mean, Merope," Hermione said, almost caught off guard.

"Merope, what an unusual name," Charles said, smiling at Hermione. "So, how do you like Hogwarts?"

"It's nice here," Hermione said. "But I've yet to find out, after attending classes."

"Oh, you're loving the classes here," Minerva McGonagall cut into their conversation. "Transfiguration is fun, for me. Professor Dumbledore is really a wonderful teacher."

"You and your lessons, Mini," Charles teased.

Minerva gave him a stern look, but nevertheless smiled at him.

"Oi Roger, Amos, over here!" Bilius Weasley gestured to the two other boys, who are still standing behind them, chatting animatedly.

Hermione was then introduced to Roger Longbottom, Neville's grandfather [she assumed] and Amos Lupin. Unlike Remus, Amos looked less pale, as he perhaps has not been bitten by a werewolf before, Hermione thought.

"So, what subjects are you taking, Merope?" Charles asked her after Hermione have been introduced to all the other Gryfindors.

"Only a few," Hermione said, taking out her schedule, which Dippet have given her earlier. "Advanced Potions, Advanced Transfiguration, Advanced Charms, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Advanced Defence against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Muggle Studies."

"Wow! So, you're taking every class, except Devonation?" Mariana asked, raising an eyebrow.

"And you called this only a few subjects?" Bilius said, unbelievingly.

"Yes," Hermione said, smiling. "Back home, I used to study a lot more than this."

"Oh, really?" Mariana asked. "Well, I bet Riddle would have competition this year."

Hermione's stomach lurched at the mention of the young dark lord. She suddenly tensed.

"Riddle?" she asked, after regaining her voice, and composing her features.

"Oh, you must meet our Head Boy, Tom Riddle. Although he is from Slytherin, he's the most charming person I've ever known," Mariana said dreamily, her eyes twinkling.

"Yeah," Roger Longbottom agreed. "And he is always top in the class."

"Well, we'll see about that, right? I hope our Head Girl here can beat Riddle. I don't like him much, by the way," Charles said.

"Come on, Charles. You're just jealous he's better-looking than you," Mariana teased.

Charles merely shrugged.

"I don't see Riddle going out with any girls," Charles said simply. "Perhaps he didn't even have a girlfriend. From what I know, he never talked much to anyone."

Hermione composed her features once more, before daring a glance at the Slytherin table. The table was full with students wearing green and silver robes. And there, at the center of the table, sat the devil himself.

The young dark lord was reading a book, probably the book that Hermione had duplicated today. His eyebrows were drawn together in concentration, and Hermione noticed that he had a habit of biting down on his lower lip when he was reading.

Hermione could not help noticing once more how handsome the teenage Voldemort looked. Now that he was awake, Hermione saw that his eyes were the colour of midnight blue, which entranced a person when staring at him. One may get lost in the deep shed of blue of those eyes. He had just the right nose, and full-lip mouth. His black hair was now nicely combed, and parted to one side. This made him look more charming than before.

Suddenly, the dark-haired boy looked from his book, and stared straight at Hermione. For a moment, hazel eyes met midnight blue ones, and their gazes locked. Then, Hermione quickly looked away.

"You're staring at him, you know?"

Hermione jumped. Mariana had seated herself beside Hermione.

"I'm sorry?" Hermione pretended to ask.

"Handsome, isn't he?" Mariana asked, giggling.

"Who?"

"Tom Riddle, the one you're looking at just now."

"I didn't look at him," Hermione said. "I was merely gazing around, that's all."

Mariana giggled harder. "Come on, Merope. There's no need to be ashamed of you. Most of the girls here have a crush on Riddle."

Hermione quickly masked the disgusted look plastered on her face into a smile.

"I don't know, Mariana," she said.

Luckily, she was saved by Dumbledore, who started to walk down the table, handing the other seventh year students their schedules. Mariana was given a long lecture by Dumbledore, as she have failed most of her sixth year tests, and Dumbledore was helping her to decide what classes that she should drop. Charles and his gang are chatting happily about Quidditch now.

Hermione started to get up and stuffed her schedule into her back once more. Students were beginning to file out of the Great Hall now, heading for their first lessons for the day. The prefects started to carry out their duty, guiding the first years out of the Great Hall and to their first classes for the day.

Hermione was about to walk out of the Great Hall when Dumbledore called her.

"Ms. Granger?"

She turned around, and looked at Dumbledore.

"Yes, professor?"

"Headmaster would like to see you in his office. Mr. Riddle would be there too."

Hermione sighed. What did Dippet want now? She was going to meet Dippet with the young dark lord. She shivered at that thought.

"Thank you for telling me, professor. I believe I can find the Headmaster's office myself," she said, offering Dumbledore a half smile.

Dumbledore nodded and smiled back at her.

"Off you go then. I'll see you in the afternoon for Transfiguration, Ms. Granger."

"Have a good day, professor," Hermione said, before slinging her bag over her shoulders and walking out of the Great Hall.

"See you later, Merope," Mariana and the boys called after her. She turned and waved at them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tom watched as Dippet walked into the Great Hall. All the students' attention was shifted to the figure trailing behind Dippet. Tom looked at the new Head Girl. She was quite pretty, Tom noted, with just the right curves in the right places. She walked with her head held high, her brown hair hanging straight down her back. It was quite wavy, by the looks of it. She was shorter than him by a few inches, and she also had a dimple on her cheek. Malfoy and his gang whistled at the sight of the girl.

"Wow! She's quite hot!" Malfoy said excitedly.

"Yeah," Lestrange agreed. "But pity, she's a Gryfindor."

The others stared at the girl. Tom looked away after a while. The girl was just another ordinary girl, Tom thought to himself. He would get rid of her as soon as possible, when he had the chance. If he was lucky, he would have the girl wrap around his fingers, just like all the other professors and students. He would be able to manipulate her. She was an easy person to break, by the looks of it.

He watched as Dippet introduced her to the whole school. The girl smiled, but Tom could detect a hint of something else in her eyes. What it was, he wondered. He would have to find out later.

Her name suddenly caught his attention. What did she said her name was again" It couldn't possibly be. Perhaps he had heard her wrongly. However, he got his answer a few seconds later, thanks to Malfoy and his gang.

"What did Dippet said her name was again? Merry something? It was quite an unusual name," noted Lestrange.

"Merope," Malfoy said. "Merope Granger. I think she's a mudblood. I never heard any wizarding family with such a surname." Malfoy screwed up his face in disgust, and threw the new girl a dirty look.

"Pity though. I could have claimed her to be mine if she's a Slytherin. She had quite the looks, you know," Malfoy continued.

Tom tuned of the conversation at this point. The fact that someone has the same name as his own mother [the daughter of Marvolo Gaunt] was unnerving. He should find out more about this girl.

After the introduction, the girl seemed to be lost in her thoughts. Then, she straightened up, and walked once more with a confident gait towards her house table.

Tom continued to observe the girl. He watched as the other students introduced themselves to her. She smiled and greeted them nicely, Tom noted. She even began to laugh and joke merrily along with them a few minutes later.

Tom looked away. He pulled out "Secrets of the Darkest Arts" from his schoolbag, and began to read where he had stopped last night.

"As the human soul is a complex structure, further studies should be done before one intended to create a horcrux. Once the horcrux is created, the soul's structure would change, and it would be less strong than before. Further research is yet to be carried out on the side effects of horcrux creation…"

With an irritated growl, Tom snapped the book shut. The Great Hall was just too noisy. He could not concentrate any longer. He looked up, and fined the new girl staring at him. For a moment, he stared back at her.

Then, she looked away quickly. Disgust was shown clearly on her face. Tom wondered why. He had never had this effect on girls before.

Merope Granger was definitely an interesting piece of puzzle that he would like to solve.

By now, students were beginning to leave the Great Hall. Slughorn was walking down the Slytherin table, passing out schedules to students. Tom had already obtained his schedule from Dippet before the feast started yesterday. He started to leave the Great Hall.

"Tom, m'boy," Slughorn said, stopping him.

Tom looked up, and immediately plastered a half smile on his face.

"Yes, professor?" he asked Slughorn.

"Headmaster Dippet would like to see you in his office along with the Head Girl."

"Thank you, professor," Tom said. This is a good chance to find more about the girl. However, Tom was not a person who would start a conversation easily. He preferred to obtain information without having to communicate too much with others. He would perhaps ask Malfoy or Lestrange to keep an eye on the girl and obtain the necessary information for him. He has no time for this, as he had better things to do with his time.

He walked out of the Great Hall, and started to make his way to the Headmaster's office. The Head Girl has already left, as he has observed. She seemed to know her way quite well around the castle, Tom noted. He would find out about this too later.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione was standing in front of the stone gargoyle of Dippet's office. She tapped her foot agitatedly. She had forgotten to ask Dumbledore about the password in her hurry of avoiding the young dark lord. She did not wish to bump into him somewhere in the Great Hall or along the corridors. She preferred to go to the Headmaster's office alone. Dumbledore have been considerate enough, by not suggesting that the young dark lord accompanied her to the Headmaster's office. As far as Hermione was concerned, she was capable of doing this herself, and the young dark lord can go his own way. She did not wish to cross path with the future darkest wizard of all times. Hermione knew the consequences quite well. She shivered a bit at that thought.

"Chocolate frog!" she tried again. The gargoyle did not move.

"Cockroach clusters!"

"Acid pops! Pumpkin pasties! Cauldron cake!"

The gargoyle remained still. Hermione started to get impatient.

"Hogwarts!" said a voice from behind her. Hermione jumped and turned around. There, right behind of her, stood the young dark lord. He was eyeing her now.

The gargoyle leapt aside, revealing the spiral staircase. Hermione felt Goosebumps on her skin. Without a word, she stepped onto the spiral staircase. The young dark lord followed behind her.

When she reached Dippet's office, she knocked twice on the door before entering.

"Ah, Ms. Granger, and Tom, comes in, come in," Dippet gestured, looking up from his pile of paperwork.

Both Hermione and The young dark lord entered and took a seat across from Dippet.

"You wanted to see us, professor?" Hermione heard the young dark lord, in a smooth silky voice.

"Yes, yes," Dippet said. "Actually, it's nothing much. I've just called the both of you here to discuss patrolling schedules and the plan for the upcoming ball."

"Of course, professor," Riddle said.

"Ball?" Hermione asked , confused.

"Indeed, Ms. Granger. The Halloween Ball is held annually every year. We always made preparations a month earlier, so that everything would run smoothly."

"I see," Hermione said. Back during her period, there was no such ball. Perhaps Dumbledore had abolished it.

"I trust the both of you can work on this together. I'm expecting a lot from both of you," Dippet said. "The patrolling schedule would be due next Friday. Kindly hand it in to me before 8 P.m."

"Of course, sir," Riddle said, in his smooth silky voice again.

"Tom, I expect you work with Ms. Granger and help her around, since she is new to this school," Dippet said, shuffling parchments around on his desk.

"Of course, sir," Riddle said.

"I hope the school would be able to run smoothly this year. I would not wish incidents like those of the last two years to occur again." He gave Riddle a half smile.

Riddle smiled back. Hermione felt anger welling up inside her. The nerve of him! He really knows how to play his cards well around Dippet.

"Certainly, sir. As Head Boy, it is my responsible to ensure that the school is safe and sound for students."

Hermione knew very well that Dippet had no knowledge that Riddle himself has opened the Chamber of Secrets. Nevertheless, she decided to test the waters. Perhaps she should shake the young dark lord up a little. There was really no harm in doing so, she reasoned, as she would be returning to her time period soon, and he would be lying six feet under by then.

"Sorry to interrupt, sir," Hermione said. "I was wondering what incidents that you are referring to just now?" she gave both Dippet and Riddle a questioning look.

"Oh, I forgot about that," Dippet said, apologetically. "Perhaps Mr. Riddle can explain the circumstances to you, Ms. Granger, as I'm very busy right now. Furthermore, I do not wish to talk about the incident, as it had brought disgrace to our school. Will you, Tom?"

From the corner of her eyes, Hermione saw Riddle's hands balled into fists. He was clearly furious at her. For a moment, she regretted her actions just now. Now, he was definitely going to curse her into insanity or kill her before the day ended.

However, he quickly schooled his features into a wide smile.

"Certainly, sir. I'll be happy to help Ms. Granger to cope with her new surroundings and explain anything that she wished to know."

"Good," Dippet said. "Now, off you two go. I'll not keep the two of you longer here. Your classes must be starting now."

Dippet waved both of them out of the office dismissively, and returned to his paperwork.

As Hermione walked out of the office, a lump was beginning to form in her throat. She noted that something was missing.

After pondering for a while, she realized that Dippet have not offered them a lemon drop, as Dumbledore had done so every time she, Harry and Ron left his office.

Both of them walked in silence down the spiral staircase. When they were once more outside the corridor, Riddle turned and began to walk away.

Hermione stared his back, and scowled. The first encounter with the young dark lord was worse than that she had expected. He had not spoken a single word to her, and Hermione was beginning to get angry. If they were to work together, this cannot go on forever.

"Fine," Hermione said. "If he found it so difficult, I'll have to take the first move."

Reluctantly, Hermione decided that if the young dark lord has still not talk to her after lunch, she would take the first initiative in engaging him in a conversation.

"This is only for official things, such as discussions of patrolling schedules for the prefects, and the ball," Hermione scoffed.

She was in a very bad temper now. She stalked down the corridor and started to head to the dungeons for Potions, which was her first class for the day. Her mood did not improve when she remembered that the Gryfindors and Slytherins are having the class together. She hoped that Slughorn would not piss her off further, by inviting her to the Slug Club. She really has no time for such nonsense.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

** There! Finally it's done! Please read and review! I know this is quite a boring chapter. Please do bear with me! I promised that the coming chapters would be more interesting.

** I would also like to clarify that unlike most TR/HG fanfictions, where Tom usually converses with Hermione, I'm going to make my story slightly different. As all of you know, in reality, a person with a dark character such as Tom cannot change overnight. It would take time. Tom's personality remained evil, for now and the few chapters after this. Changes would come gradually, as I think it is more realistic to write it in this way. Hope all of you liked it!

** Once again, feel free to offer your suggestions to improve this story. Thank you.

^^ Hermione Hean Fui ^^


	7. Chapter 7 THE DRAUGHT OF DESTINY

A/N: Thanks for those who reviewed.

Guest 6: Thanks for correcting my mistakes. I actually read the series a long time ago, so I've forgotten certain spelling of places and characters. Thanks for the reminder. Xd.

Sheddingeverycolor: Thanks for your review. Glad u liked my story. Gives me more inspiration to continue it. Do continue to review! I would appreciate it very much. Thank you.

Sorry that I couldn't update this chapter yesterday, as I've already completed it. There's some problem with the Internet connection in my area, so I only manage to upload this chapter now. So, here's a new chapter! Enjoy!

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Chapter 7: THE DRAUGHT OF DESTINY

Hermione's mood did not improve when she arrived at the dungeons for Potions. The classroom was already packed with Gryfindors and Slytherins. Slughorn had already arrived, and was just beginning the lesson for the day.

She noticed that the Slughorn of the 1940s was younger, and his belly was less pronounced yet. Other than that, Slughorn still looked the same as in her time period.

Hermione suppressed a growl from escaping her throat. This is all the young Voldemort's fault, Hermione decided. Hermione Jean Granger was never late for her classes. She would normally be the first to arrive to every class back in her time.

Hermione knocked before entering the class. Slughorn looked up from his desk, and gave her a wide smile.

"Why, look who's here," he said excitedly. "It's our new Head Girl. Come in, Ms. Granger. Glad that you would be taking my class. Professor Dumbledore has told me wonderful things about you. Let's see how you can perform in my class. Have a seat," Slughorn gestured to what seemed to be the only remaining seat which is not taken.

Luck was not on her side today, Hermione decided. The seat that Slughorn gestured towards was situated beside Tom Riddle. Hermione could not control her anger any longer. She wanted to throw something or break something now. Nevertheless, she took a few deep breaths, before walking towards her seat, at the front of the class, beside Tom Riddle.

She put her bag down on the floor next to her, and plopped onto the seat. She began to take out her cauldron, some parchment and ink, and set these up neatly on the table.

Slughorn returned to his lesson.

"Now, as I was saying, this year is an important year, as all of you know. Your NEWTs are just round the corner. So, I Hope that all of you would give your full attention to my classes, as they are very essential in order to help all of you in passing the exams," Slughorn said. He eyed Malfoy and his gang of friends, who were sitting a few rows behind Hermione with distaste. The group of boys merely snickered and gave Slughorn a bored look.

"Now, having said this, let's begin our lesson for today," Slughorn said, walking to the front of the class.

"As all of you know, we will be brewing some of the most advanced potions this year. Now, can anyone of you name me some advanced potions?" Slughorn said.

Immediately, two hands shot up. Slughorn looked at both of the students at the front of the class, and then he smiled.

"Ah, Tom," he said, giving Riddle a wider smile. "Let's give the Head Girl a chance, shall we?"

Hermione could not suppress a small smile, as she watched Riddle lowering his arm, giving Slughorn a smile, which is no doubt unwillingly plastered on his face. His hands have clenched into fists, and Hermione knew that he was angry. She did not care at all.

"Now, Ms. Granger, can you tell me the answer?" Slughorn said, beaming at her.

"Advanced potions include amortentia, which is also known as the love potion," Hermione begin to recite. Slughorn wrote this down on the board. "Other potions that are advanced include the Draught of the Living Death, Polyjuice Potion, Veritaserum, Felix Felicis and the Wolf…" Hermione quickly stopped herself. The Wolfsbane Potion has not been created yet, she remembered. It had only been created later, in 1980. "I mean, Elixir to induce euphoria," she quickly covered up her slip up.

Slughorn looked at Hermione with surprise, and wrote down the potions which she has listed on the board. "Yes, very good, Ms. Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor."

Charles and Minerva, who was sitting behind Hermione gave her wide smiles. Hermione returned their smile, and sat down once again.

"Now, we'll be brewing the potions according to alphabetical order. By the end of January next year, we will be done with this, and I'll introduce a few more new potions that all of you can brew in order to get higher scores for your NEWTs."

The classroom was now silent, save for the scratching of quills on parchments, as students begin to write down what Slughorn had just said.

"So," Slughorn said, clapping his hands together excitedly, "We'll be brewing Amortentia today, since it's the first potion on our list, and started with an "A". Before we begin, can anyone of you tell me some basic characteristics of this potion?"

Hermione's hand once again shot up. Riddle did not seem interested. Hermione could tell that he was not paying anymore attention to Slughorn. He was twirling a quill absent-mindedly while looking out of the window. Slughorn did not seem to notice this.

"Of course," Hermione thought to herself, chuckling. "Why would the dark lord bother about a love potion? He did not even understand what love is."

Hermione smiled at that thought. Slughorn gave her a wink, and Hermione started her explanation of the potion to the whole class, who was now looking at her admiringly.

"Amortentia, or also known as the strongest love potion that has ever been discovered, have a mother-of-pearl sheen. It produced spiraling steam once it was brewed. The potion would be bright pink in colour, if brewed correctly," Hermione started her explanation. "The potion smells differently to every different person. In other words, the potion would smell like the person which the brewer fancied or loved. However, amortentia does not create true love. It only infatuate obsession towards a person, and therefore, it is also a very dangerous potion, and very advanced. Persons who have swallowed a love potion will look pale and sickly, and obsessed with the person who gave them the potion. Their speech would be slightly different, speaking as though they have been hit by a ray of sunlight. Nevertheless, this potion must be administered continuously, otherwise its effects will eventually wear off, and the drinker would return to his normal state of mind."

Hermione said this without drawing a breath. She added the last two sentences on instincts, just to see whether it would affect Riddle. She had learn from Harry that Merope Gaunt, Riddle's mother, had used a love potion on his Muggle father, but have stop giving him that potion after some time.

Hermione dared a glance sideways at Riddle. He was still gazing out of the window, and his face did not show any emotion at all. Hermione sighed inwardly. She wondered how can anyone be like Riddle, bottling all the emotions inside of him every time, and never show any of that on his handsome face. Tom Riddle was definitely a puzzle to Hermione. She wished she could find out more about him, as she still wondered how someone some innocent and handsome can turned into that twisted and evil snake.

As an afterthought, Hermione considered changing the timeline while she was given the opportunity. She could perhaps kill Riddle before returning to her time, and perhaps Harry's parents would still be alive. The wizarding world would not have to suffer so many losses.

Or Hermione could perhaps change him into another person. She could make him see the world around him from a different perspective. Perhaps he would realize his mistakes, and change for the greater good; Hermione shuddered at the last words of that thought. The greater good. This was what Dumbledore have said earlier, and he and Grindelwald have once planned to dominate the world too, according to Rita Skeeta's biography.

However, Hermione quickly shake off the second thought. Changing young Voldemort was impossible, she reasoned. He has already taken the first steps in becoming the dark lord by creating horcruxes and forming his Death Eaters. Therefore, if she was to consider any other option, it would be the first one, i.e. kill him before returning to her time. For this to happen, she must first find a way to get back. Then, she could perhaps kill him before she leave. The wizarding world would not suffer, and her parents may still be alive. It is also for the greater good, Hermione noted with disgust.

Slughorn's voice brought her out of her thoughts.

"Very good, Ms. Granger. Take another twenty points for Gryfindor for the extremely detailed explanation."

"Thank you, professor," Hermione said, sitting down again. Riddle have stopped gazing out of the window, and was now twirling his wand in his left hand. He was staring straight at her, and Hermione can detect a flash of red in those midnight blue eyes of his. She shuddered slightly. She hoped that she would not get crucio-ed or avada kadevra-ed at later. She would have to be more careful.

Slughorn tapped his wand on the board, and the ingredients and instructions appeared on the board.

"You may work alone or as partners. I expect a small flask from each of you at the end of the lesson. Anyone who is having difficulty can come to the front and see me. For those of you who are a bit slow, I'll give you the chance to hand in this potion on next week. I'll also expect a six foot long essay on amortentia and its side effects from all of you. It would be due next Monday, when I see all of you again," Slughorn said, and went to the front of his desk to sit down.

Hermione preferred to work alone. She did not wish to partner up with the young dark lord for this class. She went quickly to the storage cupboard to obtain the ingredients. To her disbelief, Tom Riddle was already starting to make the potion when she came back.

Hermione was furious. How can someone be so quick? Riddle did not even glance at the instructions written on the board, nor did he open his textbook. He carried out each step as though he was familiar with the brewing of this potion. Hermione could see him carefully and patiently chopping the ingredients and adding it into his cauldron slowly. Occasionally, he stirred the contents.

Hermione observed him again. His face did not portray any emotion at all. He had a blank look. He never looked up from his cauldron. She admired his concentration when he was doing something. Hermione smiled. At least the young dark lord had something in common with her. However, Hermione quickly pushed that thought out of her mind as quickly as possible. She shouldn't be thinking about this kind of nonsense. He was Lord bloody Voldemort!

Gingerly, Hermione took out her textbook, and flipped to the page where the instructions are listed. Hastily, she made several adjustments to the steps. She had memorized Snape's adjustments when she read Harry's textbook back then. She was lucky that Hogwarts still used the same textbook in this time period. She scribbled down the adjustments quickly, and started to heat up her cauldron.

The thought of the textbook made her feel stupid again. She should not have taken the potion. If it was not for that silly potion, she would not be stuck here. She also wondered who have written down the instructions for that potion. She should find out about that too later while doing her research, if it is possible.

Hermione chopped up her ingredients with more force than she intended. She gingerly dumped the ingredients into her cauldron, and stirred the contents according to the adjustments that she has made.

Ten minutes before the lesson ended, Hermione's potion has turned a shade of bright pink, and it had a mother-of-pearl sheen. She smiled to herself, and scooped up the potion into a flask. She corked the flask tightly, and labeled it with her name and house on it. She picked up the flask, and looked at her potion. A satisfied smile spread out on her face. She glanced sideways to see whether Riddle had finished his potion. To her dismay, he had finished five minutes earlier before her. His potion also has a mother-of-pearl sheen, though the shade of bright pink was less pronounced. Hermione could not help feeling secretly delighted. Perhaps she had outshined Riddle in her first class for that day. This made her feel proud.

A sudden thought crossed Hermione's mind. She wondered what would riddle smell in his potion. She chuckled to herself. She doubted that he would be able to smell anything at all, as he had never loved anyone before in his life.

Hermione looked away, and turned back to her potion. Slughorn was now walking up and down the rows of students, inspecting each potion. Hermione set down the small flask beside her cauldron. Spiraling steam was still rising out of her cauldron, where some remains of the potion were still there.

Hermione inhaled deeply. She assumed that she could smell Ron, as before. However, she was wrong, as a different smell entered her nostrils. Hermione inhaled once more. She could not remember ever smelling that scent before. The potion smelled of fresh pines, parchment and mint. She furrowed her brows. She found that loved the aroma very much.

"Ah, Ms. Granger," Slughorn had reached her table. He picked up the flask, which Hermione had placed beside her cauldron just now, and glanced into it. "I see you've have done a good job. I daresay you have quite the brains for potions." He beamed fondly at her.

"Thank you, professor," Hermione said, flashing Slughorn her sweetest smile. Slughorn turned to riddle's cauldron. Riddle was now leaning casually back in his chair, one arm draped over the back of the chair.

"Ah, Tom," Slughorn said, smiling at him. "I've see you've done a good job too, but I'm sorry to said that your potion should look more pink, just as Ms. Granger's," he pointed to Hermione's potion. Riddle looked at it, and Hermione could see that he was sizing her up from the corner of her eyes. He gave her a nasty look, which quickly disappeared before Slughorn could register it.

"Oh, not to worry too much, m'boy. I'll still give both of you an Outstanding," Slughorn said quickly, noticing Riddle's change of mood. He scribbled an O on the parchment, beside both of their names.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. She had managed to beat the young dark lord in her first class today. She could not help feeling a bit delighted. Perhaps she should celebrate later. She should perhaps thank Snape for his brilliant skills in making the adjustments. Nevertheless, she still admired Riddle. He had managed to complete a perfect potion, though it was less strong than hers, without looking at anything. It was as though he had the steps stored permanently in his memories.

"Thank you, professor," Riddle said, in his smooth silky voice. "I'll learn to improve my potion skills soon."

"Oh, no need to feel disappointed, m'boy. Sometimes having some competition is fun, don't you think so?" Slughorn said jovially, giving Riddle a pat on his shoulders.

"Indeed, professor," Riddle said forcefully.

Slughorn walked away from their table. Hermione banished the remains of her potion that was still in the cauldron, and started to pack up her things.

"Ms. Granger?" Slughorn turned back to her table after a few more minutes.

"Yes professor?" she asked.

"Can you stay back for just a bit after this? I'll like to ask you for a favour."

Hermione sighed inwardly. She hoped that Slughorn would not ask for what she thought he might ask of her.

"Certainly, professor," she said, stuffing her textbook back into her bag. Slughorn dismissed the class, and everyone begin to file out of the classroom quickly. Riddle had already left, Hermione noted. Minerva and Charles gestured for Hermione to follow them, and waved merrily.

"I'll catch up with you guys later. Slughorn ask me to stay back for just a bit," Hermione told them.

"Okay," Minerva said. "We'll try to save a seat for you in Transfiguration. Do you know your way to the classroom?" she asked Hermione.

"Yes, I think I can manage. See you guys later," Hermione said, offering both of them another smile. Charles grinned at her and gave her a thumbs-up.

After all the students have left, Hermione made her way to the front of the classroom, and stood in front of Slughorn's desk.

"Ah, Ms. Granger. Thank you for staying back," Slughorn said, giving Hermione a wink.

"You want to ask me for a favour, professor?" she asked.

"Ah, yes, indeed, Ms. Granger." Slughorn said. He pulled out a slip of pink parchment from his drawer, and Hermione's heart sank. It was just what she had predicted.

"Well, you see, I actually have set up a small group, called the Slug Club. I invite some witches and wizards with potential to join this club normally. There would be parties and some formal gatherings once a month or so," Slughorn explained. "So, I was wondering whether you would like to join my club." Slughorn look at Hermione hopefully.

Hermione groaned inwardly. She knew that it was no use to decline. Slughorn would simply wave off her excuses, just as he had done so when Harry and she tried to turn down his invitation.

"Of course, professor. I'll be glad to join," she said, pocketing the invitation card Slughorn have given her.

"Good. The first meeting would be on next Friday. You can bring along a partner if you like," Slughorn said.

"Thank you, professor," Hermione said.

"You're welcome. This is nothing at all. Now, off you go."

Hermione turned, and started to walk out of the classroom. She headed for the Transfiguration classroom. She hoped that Dumbledore's lesson would further lift up her spirits. Her mood had improved slightly, after Slughorn announced that her potion was better than Riddle's.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tom was pissed. He stormed down the corridor after descending the spiraling staircase to the Headmaster's office. The Head Girl was really getting on his nerves. She was asking too many questions, and that good-for-nothing old fool of a Headmaster had asked him to explain everything to her. He would also have to work out the prefects' patrolling schedule and plan the ball with her. He hated to do things together with someone else. He preferred doing everything all by himself. It would be much faster and convenient, in Tom's opinion.

He made his way to his first class for the day. He arrived at the dungeons five minutes after Slughorn had entered the classroom.

"Ah, Tom, m'boy," Slughorn's voice boomed out excitedly when Tom entered the classroom. It was already packed with students from Gryfindor and Slytherin. Tom made his way to the front of the classroom, and sat down in his usual seat. He always sits alone, as no one would dare to sit next to him. They know that he hated to be disturbed during lessons, and that he was not a talkative person.

"I'm sorry that I'm late, professor. Headmaster Dippet was discussing some matters with me just now. I hope you don't mind, professor," Tom said, plastering a smile on his face.

"Not at all, m'boy. Not at all," Slughorn said, smiling back at him. "I understand."

Tom started to arrange his things on the table. He took out his worn-out copy of the advanced potions textbook, and his cauldron, which he had used for as long as he can remember. He placed some parchment and ink beside his book, and waited for Slughorn to begin the lesson.

The new Head Girl was still on his mind. He would have to get rid of Merope granger as soon as possible. Tom still could not get over the shock that she shared the same first name with his mother.

The subject of his concerns walked into the classroom five minutes later. Her hair was slightly messy, no doubt from running, Tom noted. Slughorn welcomed her into the class. Then, Slughorn gestured to the seat beside him. Tom tensed. His day could not have gotten worse. She was going to sit beside him. He hoped that she would not irritate him too much. She has not made any attempt to strike up a conversation with him, and Tom was glad about this. He did not wish to talk to her at all.

He could not help noticing the disgusted look she always threw at him, whenever she stared at him. He wondered what had triggered that reaction in the girl. The same disgusted look crossed her face, as she eyed the seat beside him. However, she quickly masked it with a sweet smile at Slughorn, and began to walk towards the front of the class, where he was sitting.

She put her bag down on the floor next to her chair, and sat down gracefully. She started to take out her cauldron, books, parchment and ink. Tom noticed that she liked to keep her things arranged neatly, just like him.

Slughorn started the lesson. When he asked the first question, Tom raised his hands. He was slightly surprised to see that Merope Granger did the same too. No one have ever challenged him before, not even Minerva McGonagall, who was the second smartest person in the school, although Tom noted that she was way behind him. Anger began to well up in him. How dare she challenged him? And who did she think she was?

He lowered his hands, and gave Slughorn a smile.

Slughorn asked Merope to answer the question. Tom's anger was at the boiling point now. He clenched his fists. He noticed that Merope glanced at him once before quickly turning away, and began to answer the question.

Tom could not help feeling impressed with the new girl. She had managed to name the potions correctly. However, there was something not right about her answer. He had heard her said a particular potion before quickly stopping herself, and naming another potion.

"Wolfs…" he had heard her said.

"Wolfs…wolfs what?" Tom wondered. He decided to check it out at the library later. He had never heard of any advanced potion that sounded like that before. Perhaps he had missed something, although he doubted that this was the case.

Tom's jaw dropped when Slughorn told them that they would be brewing amortentia for the day. He hated this particular potion. To him, this was a stupid potion, and is not worth the time for. He had better things to do.

He tuned Slughorn out, and started to gaze out of the window. The early autumn sun was streaming through the window, and Tom could see the grounds below, although not much can be seen, as the window is quite small, and the dungeons are situated underground.

Tom was jolted out from his thoughts when he heard Merope Granger's voice again. Slughorn had asked another question, and Tom had not heard him, as he was too occupied with his thoughts. Damn. He cursed silently under his breath.

Merope Granger begins to launch into a detailed explanation of the characteristics and effects of amortentia. Tom could not help admiring her. She had memorized every word of the textbook. How could a person possibly do that? He had tried before, but later found out that this was not his style of expressing himself. He preferred combining knowledge from various sources and rephrasing them to his likings. Every professor would be impressed with his answers, and always gave him good grades for his essays. He glanced at the girl beside him. She was still rambling on about the effects of amortentia. He noticed that she placed great emphasis on her last sentence. He wondered why at first, and then it hit him. Her words rang a bell in his head.

"The potion must be administered continuously, otherwise the effects on the drinker's state of mind would return to normal and wear off," Tom muttered to himself again. This was what happened to his filthy Muggle father, when his mother stops giving him the strong love potion. How could the girl possibly know his secret? Or might this just be a coincidence? Tom reasoned that it must be a coincidence. The girl was new, and could not possibly know anything about his background. He was simply being too paranoid. Tom pushed that thought to the back of his mind, and continued his brewing.

Of course Slughorn was delighted with her answer, and awarded more points to Gryfindor. Tom sighed inwardly. The girl was really getting on his nerves more than ever.

As students started to shuffle towards the storage cupboard to obtain the necessary ingredients, Tom quickly get to his feet. He was quickly backed in his seat, carrying the necessary ingredients before the other students returned to their seats. He liked to do things fast.

By the time Merope Granger returned to her seat, Tom had already started to brew the potion. He did not need to look at anything. He had memorized all the steps of the potion [although he thought that this was a waste of time]. He had even made certain adjustments of his own, to improve the quality of the potion.

He caught the girl next to him staring again, but pretended not to notice. He started to chop up his ingredients. The girl continued to observe him. Tom could see that she gave him an admiring look, before quickly turning away.

Tom noticed Merope opening her textbook. He could see that she was turning the pages rapidly, until she reached the desired page. She bent over the book, and started to scribble on the page. Tom wished he could see what she was writing, but thought better about it afterwards. He noted that he had better things to do, than snooping on other people's business. She was probably making some notes, Tom decided.

After some more scribbling, the girl straightened up, and began to chop her ingredients. Tom noted that she was letting out her anger on the ingredients, as she was chopping with a force which is harder than necessary. He wondered what she was angry about. He would find out later.

Tom turned his attention back to his potion. It was almost ready.

Finally, the contents in his cauldron turned into a bright shade of pink, and Tom smirked. He was satisfied with his work.

When Slughorn reached their table, Tom glanced up, and was surprised to see that the Head Girl had also completed her potion. She finished five minutes later than him. He could not help noticing that her potion was slightly pinker than his. He was very angry. How dare the girl steal his spotlight? How could she possibly outshine him, Tom Marvolo Riddle, the best and top student in the school for the past seven years?

Slughorn complimented her for her potion. Tom noticed that the girl was delighted at this. He put up a show in front of Slughorn and pretended to be please with his own achievement. Gingerly, he tucked his book back into his bag, and started to clear away the remains of his potion.

What had she done to make such a strong potion, Tom wondered. He would get the answer out of her sooner, he decided.

Suddenly, curiosity overtook him. He wondered what the potion would smell like to him. Cautiously, after making sure that no one was looking, he inhaled the potion deeply. He doubted that he could smell anything at all.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He could indeed smell something, but he could not quite make it out. He inhaled again. The scent was so refreshing. He smelled vanilla, fresh fruits and another scent which he could not describe. It smelled like cherries. Maybe cherry blossoms, he decided. He inhaled the aroma again. He found that he liked it. Then, realizing what he was doing, he quickly banished the potion, and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

How could he stray so far away? What had gotten into him? He was sure that he had smelled the aroma somewhere before, but he could not remember where. He decided to push this thought away. He had no time for these stupid things. He had better things to do. After gathering all his things, he took one last look at the girl beside him. She was still gathering up her things, with a thoughtful look on her face. Tom wondered what she was thinking about. He would read her mind later, he decided.

After taking one last look at the girl, he turned and walked out of the classroom, and headed for his next class.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The day continued smoothly for Hermione. Transfiguration was very interesting. Dumbledore certainly knew how to hold the students' interest. Every student concentrated hard and gave him their full attention during the class. Hermione was very lucky, because Minerva and Charles had managed to save a seat for her at their table, where they were joined by Bilius Weasley, Roger Longbottom and Mariana Brown. They talked and giggled among themselves happily.

The lesson was very interesting. Dumbledore thought them object transformation, where different objects are transfigured into different things. Dumbledore had asked them to practice transforming a wooden box into a small stool. All the students were very excited.

At the end of the lesson, only Hermione, Minerva and the young dark lord managed to complete the task successfully. Charles had managed to form the legs of the stool, but they were not stable. Roger, Bilius and Mariana merely managed to change the colour of the wooden box that they were given. Dumbledore awarded Hermione and Minerva each twenty points for Gryfindor, but did not award any points to Riddle. Hermione noted the young dark lord did not seem please with this, but he did not protest. He merely gave Dumbledore a disgusted look before turning away, and storming out of the class furiously.

Hermione did not blame Dumbledore for his actions. Dumbledore had indeed suspect the young dark lord for opening the Chamber of Secrets, but he had no evidence against him. So, Hermione feel that it is only fair that Dumbledore treat the young dark lord less favourably than other professors of Hogwarts. Hermione gathered up her things, and walked out of the classroom with Minerva and Charles. They were heading for Herbology, which both Bilius and Mariana had failed, and were not taking it for their NEWTs.

Herbology was also very interesting. Hermione learned about a few new plants, which were banned during her time period, owing to its dangerous nature. It can explode in one's face, and if not handled carefully, may also caused severe injury to various parts of the body. Hermione shuddered at the thought. Nevertheless, she was careful in handling the plants, and managed to put a few into a pot before the lesson ended. Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes also went smoothly.

At the end of the day, Hermione was feeling quite please with herself. Her last lesson ended at three-thirty in the afternoon, and Hermione decided that now is the time to go to the library and carry out her research. She would begin looking in the Potions section first, and will continued in the restricted section once Dumbledore has given her the pass, as he had promised her that morning.

After promising Minerva and her friends that she would meet them for dinner, Hermione headed towards the library. She pushed open the double doors, and stepped into the library, which was once her sanctuary.

The librarian looked up as she entered the library. Unlike the strict Madam Pince, this woman has a nicer smile, and more softer voice.

"Good afternoon, my dear," she said, smiling at Hermione. "Can I help you?"

"I'm the new Head Girl," Hermione said. "I think I just wanted to look around the library for just a bit, if you don't mind, Madam."

"Of course not, my dear. I'm Madam Perrywinkle. Welcome to Hogwarts," she held out her hand, and Hermione shook it warmly.

After exchanging a few more words with Madam Perrywinkle, Hermione headed towards the shelves. She inhaled deeply. The scent of leather-bound books and polished wood was so refreshing. She feels happy and relaxed here.

Hermione started to look for books in the Potions section. There were various interesting books that she wished she could read, but she doubted that she have the time to do so. She needed to get started with her research, or she would be stuck here for a longer time then she intended.

"A Thousand Potions for Your Choice", "Potions and Their Healing Abilities", "The Joy of Potion Brewing", Potions and Their Side Effects", "The Most Dangerous Potions and the list just went on and on. Hermione ran her fingers through all the bindings of thick books, excitement bubbling in her stomach. She really wished that she could read all of these books. These books were not there yet in the library during her time period.

After selecting a few books that she thought might be relevant to her research, she carried the big pile of books to a small table nearby, and sat down. She began her research. She hoped that the books would at least contain some information about the strange potion that she has consumed.

A strange smell entered her nostrils. Hermione inhaled deeply. It was the scent that she had smelled in her amortentia that morning. She sniffed it again, and there it was. The aroma of fresh pines, parchment and mints. She looked around her, but could not see anyone at all.

"I must be imagining things," Hermione said, turning to her books. She did not give it much thought after that, as she was so immersed in her research.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Two hours later, Hermione stormed out of the library, feeling frustrated. There was nothing at all that she found useful for her needs. All the books are about various rare potions, their healing abilities and etc. There was no mention of the potion that Hermione had consumed. Nevertheless, she decided to check out a few books, which she thought would be of some help.

Hermione decided to go back to her dormitory. She would take a quick nap, complete her homework before dinner, and would start to read the books after dinner if she had the time.

The books were very heavy. Hermione tried to balance them as best as possible on her arms. She had not managed to stuff them into her schoolbag, as it was already bulging with her textbooks and other things.

As Hermione was too occupied with her thoughts, she forgot to jump the last few steps of the staircase leading up to the seventh floor, which she would normally do, as the stairs were very tricky, and a few steps may went missing. Realising her mistake too late, Hermione jumped out of the way just in time, before her leg gave way. However, all her books have fallen onto the floor.

"What the hell?" Hermione cursed under her breath, starting to pick up the books. As she tried to get up, the books slipped out of her grasp again, as it was too heavy, and Hermione could not balanced them properly.

"Damn!" Hermione muttered. She bent down, and started to gather up the books again.

"Need any help?" a voice behind her asked. She turned, and saw a Slytherin boy staring at her. He looked like Sirius, except for his eyes.

"Yeah, I guess so," Hermione said, straightening up. She tried to control her heart from pounding so fast. The boy really looks like Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. Hermione felt sad, remembering Sirius's death. It had tear Harry's heart apart. He had become quieter since Sirius's death. Hermione wished that she could do something to help Harry, but she knew that her attempts would be fruitless. Harry would not listen to anyone. He had watched Sirius fall down back in the Death Chamber in the Department of Mysteries. Hermione could not help feeling sorry for him. Harry was only a young boy, and yet he has such a great burden on his shoulders. The whole wizarding world depended on him to vanquish the dark lord.

Tears started to well up in her eyes, but she blinked them back quickly.

"Are you alright?" the boy asked her, concern written all over his face. He had now balanced all the books under his strong arms.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Hermione said. "I just missed home."

"Oh," the boy said, smiling up at Hermione. "Don't worry; you can go back during the holidays…"

He stopped himself. His face took on a different expression, and he looked at Hermione apologetically.

"I'm sorry. I forgot that your parents were attacked by Grindelwald a few weeks ago," he said quickly.

"It's okay," Hermione said. "Don't worry. I'll get over it as time goes by."

"Oh, I forgot to introduce myself," he said, holding up his hands. "Alfer Black, Slytherin house. You're our Head Girl, right?"

"Yeah," Hermione said, taking the boy's hand and giving it a warm shake. "I'm Merope Granger."

Alfer smiled. Now, Hermione remembered. This was Sirius's great-uncle, who has helped him and gave him money when Sirius left home. No wonder he looked so much like Sirius. Hermione noticed that Alfer was different from the other Slytherins. He was more friendly and kind-looking. Nevertheless, Hermione still did not trust him yet. She had to be careful, she told herself countless times.

They started to walk down to the corridor, until they reached the portrait of the young lady who guarded the entrance to the Heads' Dorms. Alfer held out the pile of books to Hermione, and she took them from him. She flashed him another smile.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Black," Hermione said.

"Please, call me Alfer," he said. "It's nothing at all. It's my pleasure to help such a nice young lady like you, Ms. Granger." He beamed at her. Hermione noticed that he had the same blue eyes like Sirius, and his face really resembled a replica of Sirius's boyish and handsome face.

"Call me Merope," Hermione said, smiling at Alfer again. She was beginning to like this boy.

"So, I guess I'll see you around, then," Alfer said.

"Yeah," Hermione said. "See you later, in classes."

After a few more exchanges, Alfer walked away. Hermione watched him for a while, and then turned to face the portrait of the young lady.

"Password?" she asked Hermione, in the same soft and quiet voice that she had used before.

"Caput Draconis," Hermione said. The portrait swung aside.

Hermione stepped into the commonroom. The young dark lord was no where to be seen. Hermione feel glad about this. However, she knew that she would have to deal with him later. She cannot go on like this, as she was the Head Girl, and would need to configure things with the Head Boy. She would have to strike up conversation with him, if he continued to ignore her.

Hermione dumped the books that she had carried onto her bed. After packing all her other things safely away, Hermione climbed onto the bed. She would just take a quick nap before starting her homework.

She was so tired that she falls asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione awoke an hour later, which was later that she had intended. She yawned and stretched, before getting up. She went into the bathroom for a quick shower, and emerged looking fresh and relaxed.

She started to pull her homework out of her bag. She have a few essays to write, which were all due on next week. However, Hermione intended to finish them on that day, as she would have more time for her research. She dipped her quill into the inkwell, and started to write.

"There! All is done!" Hermione said to herself happily, rolling up the last parchment, where she had completed her seven foot essay on object transfiguration two hours later. She put all her homework into her bag, and headed down to the Great Hall for an early dinner.

Minerva and her friends were already there, waiting for Hermione. Hermione greeted them happily, and started to pile food onto her plate.

"So, how do you find Hogwarts so far, Merope?" Roger asked, spooning mashed potatoes into his mouth.

"It's very nice here. It's more interesting than what I learned back in France," Hermione said. She was getting use telling these lies already.

"You're brilliant," Charles complimented her. "Did you see the look on Riddle's face when you beat him in Potions this morning?"

"Chuck it, mate," Bilius said, "He's still the top student. Merope was also very clever. I think both of you will make a great pair." He giggled mischievously.

Mariana giggled too at this.

"Of course," she said, "Merope was already looking at him at breakfast, without realizing it. I think she fancies him."

"No, I Don't," Hermione cut Mariana off, with a much louder voice than she had intended. The girl was worse than Lavender Brown, and Hermione hoped that she could get rid of her soon. If she still continued like this, Hermione was afraid that she would one day hex her out of irritation.

"Okay, okay, calm down, Merope. We're just joking," Bilius said. He stuffed his food ibnto his moth greedily. Hermkione could not help noticing that he ate just like Ron. She smiled at that thought. At the same time, there was an empty feeling in her stomach. She missed both Harry and Ron very much now. How she wished they were beside her now. They would definitely have a great time, talking and laughing together.

"Yeah. Anyway, if you really fancy him, just admit it. Every girl at this school does too, and there's no need to be ashamed about it," Mariana continued with an encouraging voice. This jolted Hermione back to her senses. She shook herself violently. She should bnot drift off like this anymore. Her cover might slip anytime.

"I never fancy Riddle," Hermione said more firmly, after regaining her composure.

Mariana just giggled harder.

"Oh!" Mariana said suddenly, her tone excited. "I just remembered. You shared a room with him. Oh, my God, Merope!"

"Mariana…"

"So, how's it like? Was it fun? What did both of you do last night? How was Riddle like when he was asleep? Did he snore?"

Hermione feel exasperated. She wished that she could tell everyone there at the Gryfindor table now the true personality of Tom Riddle. They would perhaps be shocked and some of them would not have believed her. So, she decided that this was not a good move to take, and it would no doubt be impossible to do so.

"We never did anything yesterday. In case you're wondering, we've separate beds, and they are at separate ends of the room. And, I fall asleep quickly yesterday, as I was too tired. Riddle was not in the room when I woke up," Hermione said, giving Mariana a stern look. "And can you drop it now, please, Mariana? I don't fancy Riddle."

"I see," Mariana said, still giggling.

Hermione turned away. Mariana was really pissing her off. Luckily, Charles and the others noticed that Hermione was not in the mood of discussing this topic any longer, as they quickly steered the conversation towards other matters such as lessons and Quidditch.

Hermione glanced at the Slytherin table. Tom Riddle was no where to be seen. He was not sitting in his usual spot, at the far left end of the table. Alfer was there, chatting to another girl. When he caught Hermione staring at the Slytherin table, he waved at her.

Hermione smiled back at him, and waved.

Beside her, Hermione could hear Mariana giggle.

"Oh, I think you really did not fancy Riddle, after all," Mariana said. "You liked someone else."

"Please," Hermione said, giving the girl a hard look. "We're just friends, okay?"

"Oh, we'll see about that," Mariana said. Her giggles grew louder as Alfer began to make his way to the Gryffindor table, bringing a girl along with him.

"Merope, this is my cousin, Lucricia Black," he said, beaming at Hermione. Lucricia gave Hermione a half smile.

"Hey, Nice to meet you," Hermione said, shaking Lucricia's hand. Lucricia seemed taken aback by this, but did not say anything at all.

"So, what's your blood status?" she asked after a few moments gazing at Hermione.

"Lucy…" Alfer started to protest, but Lucricia ignored him.

Hermione was very angry at this.

"I'm sorry?" she said coldly. The nerve of this girl! Who did she think she was? No one so far had questioned her about her blood status, and Hermione was glad about it.

"One must be sure before making friends, you know," Lucricia Black drawled, throwing back her long bblack hair arrogantly. "We Slytherins don't want to mix with the wrong kind, if you know what I mean. In case you're wondering, I'm not so open like my cousin Alfer here, and I don't mix around with the wrong kind, especially Mudbloods. So, care to tell me about your blood status now?"

Hermione tried to control herself as best as possible. Alfer tried to pull Lucricia away, giving Hermione an apologetic look. He also looked quite angry.

"Lucy, that's quite enough," he snapped. "If you don't like Merope, I don't mind. However, I would ask you to mind your manners around our new Head Girl," he said.

"Oh, come on, cousin Alfer," Lucricia drawled. "There's nothing wrong finding out more about our Head Girl, is there?"

"Enough!" Alfer started to drag Lucricia back to the Slytherin table forcefully.

"Its okay, Alfer," Hermione finally said, pulling herself up to her full height. She faced Lucricia, and gave her a dark look.

"In case you're wondering, Ms. Black, I'm a half-blood. My father's a Muggle, and my mother's a witch. I also mix with all kinds of people, especially Muggle-born ones. Are you satisfied now?"

Lucricia returned Hermione's dark look with a glare, before stalking off to the Slytherin table.

"I'm sorry about that. Lucy's quite spoilt, you know," Alfer said, his face falling.

"It's okay. I'm used to this kind of treatment. All Slytherins are like that, I gather?"

"Yeah, some of them thought they are superior, as they came from rich pureblood families," Alfer said, giving Malfoy and his gang, who were now giggling happily a dirty look.

"You would want to be careful around that group. They are not to mess with, if you know what I mean," Alfer said in a low voice.

"I see," Hermione said. She chuckled to herself. Who would want to mess with a bunch of maniac Death Eaters in their right mind, especially when their leader was sleeping a few feet away from her?

"I'm sorry, Merope," Alfer said again.

"Apology accepted," Hermione said. Luckily, Mariana and the others have already left, so Hermione was saved from the trouble of being teased at again.

"So, we're still friends then?" Alfer asked shyly.

"Friends," Hermione said, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.

Alfer's smile returned. Hermione beamed at him. Both of them began to chat happily. They talked about lessons, Quidditch and all sorts of silly things. Hermione found out that Alfer was the Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team. Alfer had seemed taken aback when Hermione told him that she did not liked flying much, but nevertheless enjoyed watching the game. She told him about Harry and Ron, and their spectacular performances during Quidditch, taking care not to use their actual names when doing so. Alfer was impressed.

After that, Hermione decided to return to her dormitory. She should have some time to read the books she borrowed from the library today before going to bed. So, she bid Alfer goodnight and walked out of the Great Hall.

"Merope?" Alfer called after her. She turned, and looked into his sparkling blue eyes. There were so warm and nice to look at, Hermione decided. However, Riddle's midnight blue eyes were much softer, the other part of Hermione thought.

Hermione quickly shook herself. What was she thinking? Perhaps she was tired, she decided.

Alfer was now standing beside her. Suddenly, he leaned in close to Hermione.

"Be careful," Alfer said. Hermione gave him a questioning look.

"I mean, be careful. Riddle's a dangerous person. You don't know him, as you're new. I suspect he is up to no good, though the others thought differently," Alfer said quickly, in a whisper.

"What do you mean?" Hermione pretended to ask, although she already knew what was coming.

"I don't know whether my suspicions were true, but please be careful, Merope. Don't get too close to Riddle, and don't annoy him. I've seen bad things happen to those who disobeyed him," Alfer said. "I'll tell you more about this later. Perhaps we can meet tomorrow in the library?"

"Okay," Hermione said. She thanked Alfer, and walked out of the Great Hall.

"Don't worry, Alfer. I will be careful," Hermione said before turning around and leaving. "In fact, I always am," she muttered to herself.

Alfer waved at her, and started to walk away in the opposite direction, heading for the dungeons, where the Slytherin dormitories were located.

Hermione started to make her way to the seventh floor corridor. It was deserted by now, as most students have gone to bed.

"Caput Draconis," Hermione said, and the portrait swung aside. She stepped into the commonroom.

Hermione stopped herself from trembling again. Shivers were running down her spine again. The young dark lord was sitting on the armchair by the fireplace, reading a book. His face was screwed up in concentration, and he did not seem to notice her. Quietly, Hermione tiptoed pass him, and walked up to the room which they shared. She stepped into the room, and started to take out her books. She plopped down on her bed, and started to finger through the first book excitedly.

The leather-bound book was dusty. Hermione dusted off the cover, and glimpsed at the title printed in golden letters on it: "The Most Advanced Theory on Potion Brewing".

She started to flip through the pages. Suddenly, one particular page caught her attention. She propped the book onto the bed, and squinted more closely at the words.

"The theory of mixing various potions together to create a desired draught was first invented and tested by Harperlindo McKenna, the great potions' master of the 16th century. In 1565, this theory was tested by a few other potions master, but it did not create the effect they desired. Most of them believed that it was impossible to mix a few potions together, but McKenna had managed to create a particular draught by mixing a few well-known potions together. This was originally known as the Draught of Destiny, where the drinker would be able to journey further through time, and experience an adventure that they would never dreamed of before. The draught, according to McKenna in his book "Potions and Their Greatest Potential", was not tested yet. However, McKenna did not put this down in writing, and his work went unrecognized for the next few decades. There were doubts that the aforementioned book exist at all, as various researchers had not came across this book, not even in McKenna's private library, which have been searched after his death in the 1700s.

This theory has not been tested out yet, and its flaws were unknown. It was also unknown to the wizarding world yet. McKenna never left any traces behind. It was believed that he kept a small journal about his theory, but since his death in the early 17th century, there had been no discovery of this journal.

Some believed that he writes on scraps of parchment, using green ink. The parchments were scattered all around the wizarding world, according to some of McKenna's apprentices. However, it was unknown whether this theory was just a legend, or it was actually true, as it had not been fully researched yet."

The page just ended there. Hermione turned to the next page, but it was about another potion.

Excitement was bubbling at the pit of her stomach. Had the scrap of parchment that she found belonged to Harperlindo McKenna? Had she managed to find a page of the journal that was believed lost forever? She sat up in excitement. Perhaps other books would also mention this theory. She had never heard about this theory at all. She should find out more about it. If the potion that she had consumed was indeed one of McKenna's inventions, she would have to find the journal, in order to get back. She hoped that her assumptions so far were true.

Feeling excited, Hermione began to leaf through the other books. However, she was disappointed to find nothing in them. There was no mention of McKenna's theory at all. Perhaps she should go back for more books at the library on tomorrow. She should find the book by Harperlindo McKenna, although she did not remember reading such a book during her time, nor had she remember coming across it when she went to the library just now. She should check again tomorrow, just to make sure. If the book was not there, perhaps she could look in the restricted section later.

Hermione stacked the books onto the floor, and stretched. She yawned. Perhaps she should go to bed now. She opened her trunk to look for the calming potion. She did not wish to have another nightmare tonight, and she hoped that the potion would work. If not, she would have to brew a dreamless sleep potion tomorrow, or get it from the hospital wing.

It was then that she remembered the books that she had duplicated from Riddle earlier that morning. Hermione quickly took them out of her beaded bag. She was about to read one of them, when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Quickly, Hermione vanished the books into her beaded bag again, and hid it in her trunk. She locked her trunk, warded it with a few quick flicks of her wand, and quickly hurried to the bathroom. She bolted the bathroom door behind her just as she heard the bedroom door clicked open.

Hermione started to wash her face with warm water from one of the taps. She splashed water onto her face, and untied her hair. It was hanging down loosely onto her back. She normally does not tie her hair when she went to bed, as she would feel more comfortable that way. Hermione did not care that it looked slightly messy this way.

Having cleaned herself up, Hermione slipped into a soft pink nightgown. After that, she reached for the door of the bathroom.

"It is now or never," Hermione told herself. She was not going to back away any longer. She should face her fear once and for all. She should be prepared forever now.

Meeting the young dark lord was nothing at all, Hermione keep telling herself. He will simply not bother her. She just has to get out of the bathroom, and walk a few steps to her bed. She could pretend not to notice him, or ignore him altogether. After all, he had done this to her for the whole morning.

Hermione calmed herself. The calming potion was not helping her at all. Perhaps she should take another dose of it before going to bed that night.

Hermione knew that she should make her first move now, as she had promised herself this morning. She should try to strike up a conversation with Riddle, but she tried to push this thought further away. She wanted to avoid this from happening, anyway. She did not think that she should irritate the dark lord, but her responsibility as the Head Girl and the position that she was put into currently required her to do so. Dippet would definitely throw her out of the school if she carried out her responsibilities in this manner, and her reputation would be affected. The whole school would definitely hate her further. Hermione did not wish to confront gossiping girls like Mariana and Lucricia, who would no doubt spread the news that Hermione did not get along with the Head Boy. Mariana would further tease her, and Hermione hated that. She did not want to be in the spotlight, or the subject of the girl's gossip.

Hermione growled softly. She should make her first move tomorrow, she told herself confidently. Now she should go to bed, and plan her approach on tomorrow, if Tom bloody Marvolo Riddle still ignored her.

Hermione unbolted the door, and stepped out of the bathroom. She made her way to her bed, pretending not to notice a certain dark-haired Slytherin, who was walking towards the other end of the room. She opened her trunk, took out the calming potion, and downed a few more gulps. Having done that, she recapped the bottle, put it back into her trunk and locked it. She pushed the trunk under her bed using her foot, and got into bed. She could hear the rhythmic and firm footsteps on the other side of the room, still pacing up and down.

Hermione did not care at all. She pulled the covers up to her chin, flicked her wand to ward her bed, and lay down on her pillow. The calming potion was taking effect now. The relaxed sensation floated into Hermione's body, and she felt light-headed.

A few minutes later, Hermione's eyelids drooped, and she fall asleep, with peaceful thoughts about Harry, Ron and her family in her head.

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Tom Riddle was really pissed. The Head Girl had managed to annoy him further that day. Tom noted that Dumbledore, the old coot, had also begun to like the girl. She had demonstrated great potential in all the classes, which they attended together. She seemed to take the same subjects as him, Tom noted. Every professor was now impressed with her. She had managed to answer as much questions as possible in every class. Tom was getting less attention from the professors now. He would make sure that this does not happen again, he promised himself. He would break the girl as soon as he had the chance to do so.

After classes ended, Tom's mood did not improve. He stalked off furiously to the library, hoping to find more books about horcruxes. He entered the library, and immediately went to the restricted section. He started to scan through the shelves. He had already read most of the books here, he noted. There were only a few shelves left.

He went into another isle, and begins to scan through the titles again. One particularly small book caught his attention. It was stuffed between two dusty books, and Tom summoned it with his wand.

"Accio, book!" he said, waving his wand. The book flew out of the shelf, and landed in his hands. He dusted off the cover with another flick of his wand, and read the title.

"Potions and Their Greatest Potential" by Harperlindo McKenna. He squinted more closely at the book. It was black in colour, and the bindings were coming off. He had never seen this book before, when scanning this shelf earlier. He was very curious. He flipped through the pages of the book, but found that its pages were blank.

Tom was getting excited. He decided to check out the book. He cautiously put the book into his bag, and started to walk out of the restricted section. As he passed the shelves, a familiar smell caught his nostrils.

He stopped in his tracks, and inhaled deeply. It was the same scent that he had smelled from his potion that morning. Tom immediately straightened up. This was impossible, he thought. He never had a crush on any girl, and none of them have ever slipped him a love potion before, though he doubted they would not try to do so.

He sucked in another breath of air. The aroma was so nice. It really smelled like vanilla, fresh fruit and cherry blossoms. Tom looked around, but could not see anyone. He decided that he must be imagining things, and shook himself violently.

"What are you thinking?" he hissed softly to himself. "Get a grip on yourself, Tom Marvolo Riddle."

He turned away, and walked out of the library.

Tom returned to the Heads Dorms. He entered the commonroom, and placed his bag on the couch. He glanced around the commonroom. The Head Girl was no where to be seen. Tom was slightly pleased with this. He would deal with her later.

He took out Harperlindo McKenna's book from his schoolbag, and started to flip through the pages thoughtfully.

An hour later, Tom's mood was getting worse. He had tried everything he knew on the book, but the pages still remained blank. He had presented it with blood, uses some revealing potions on them and had also used a few spells which he had learned and created himself. The pages stared back at him blankly. Tom stamped his foot angrily. He got up from the couch in the commonroom, and started to head down to the Great Hall. He decided to have an early dinner, and work on the book later after finishing his homework.

As it was still early, Tom was the only one in the Great Hall when he arrived. He quickly ate his dinner, and went back to his dormitory. He started to take out his homework from his schoolbag, and began to write his essays. Tom liked to finish things fast, so he finished up all the essays, which were all due next week, and rolled up the parchments after that. He stuffed all his essays back into his schoolbag, and took out "Secrets of the Darkest Arts". He would use some spells he found here on the book, he decided. If he was lucky, he would be able to read the small book tonight.

He carried the book to the armchair nearest to the fireplace, as it was getting cold. He shivered slightly. Tom had not got a sweater. He could not afford to buy one, and he had not bother to ask Dippet for another one, since he had outgrown the first one. He hated charity. It would make him look weak. He casted a warming charm on himself, but the effects would wear off eventually. He had yet to research on how to make the charm last longer.

Tom sat down on the armchair, and began to thumb through the book. He found the spells he was looking for, and read it once more.

Just as he was about to turn the page, he heard a click, and looked up. The portrait hole was open, and Merope Granger stepped into the commonroom, carrying a large stack of dusty old books under her arms.

She must have been to the library, Tom thought. She seemed not to notice him, and Tom was glad. He pretended not to have noticed her too, and continued to read his book. He heard her climbing up the stairs, and looked up again. He sighed.

Why must someone like her be so difficult? Couldn't she stop irritating him?

He heard a soft click as she closed the door of the bedroom above. He scowled at this. She would not stay long in that room, he decided. He would make her leave it without protest as soon as possible. Tom Marvolo Riddle would not tolerate anyone who irritate him and still share a room with him. He hated sharing things with anybody. Back in the orphanage, the other kids have bullied him, and he had got back at them by taking away their things. He was glad for doing so. It was so pleasurable watching all of them squirmed in terror when they saw him. He was glad that he had that effect on every kid. Although they shunned him and refused to play with him, Tom did not bother. Having friends meant nothing at all to Tom. There is only power, no friends, no love and no good and evil too.

Tom took out the small book again. He casted all the spells found in the book, but still nothing happened. The pages remained blank.

Tom was now in a very bad temper. He slammed the book shut, and threw it into his schoolbag. Then, he gathered up all his things, and started to climb up the staircase leading to the bedroom.

He reached the door, and opened it. He heard a faint click as the bathroom door closed in front of his eyes. What was the girl up to now, he wondered. She seemed to be avoiding him, Tom noted. He really should do something to her, he decided.

However, the other half of him refused to do so. He was so tired after the long day, and he wanted to rest now.

"I'll deal with her tomorrow," Tom said, making his final decision. He started to undress, and slipped into his pajamas. Then, he started to pace about in the room, as he usually does, when his mind was occupied with thoughts.

On this particular night, his thoughts were on Merope Granger and how to get rid of her as soon as possible.

After five minutes of pacing, Tom heard the bathroom door clicked open. He turned around slightly. Merope Granger emerged from the bathroom, wearing a soft pink nightgown. Tom thought she looked more beautiful, with her hair loosely hanging down her back. Her hazel brown eyes looked beautiful and tempting too, Tom noted. He wondered what was behind those beautiful brown eyes.

He quickly shook himself. What was he thinking? He was Lord Voldemort. He could not be charmed so easily by an ordinary girl. He bit down angrily on his lower lip, and turned back to pace the room again. Why was this girl so special? What was it with her that has kept his thoughts straying to her every hour? Tom wondered whether she had secretly charmed him. No, she couldn't have, he would know. After all, he was the great Lord Voldemort, who knew everything. She had not even talked to him yet. He wondered why. Most girls would try to charm him with their silly compliments and giggles, even the first time they met.

"Everything would be solved tomorrow," Tom said quietly to himself.

Merope Granger's soft footsteps could be heard, as Tom watched her walking to her side of the room. She did not even notice him, Tom noted, or pretended not to. He scowled at this. This girl was definitely weird. She had looked at him, but did not smile. She had instead given him a disgusted look. Tom was exasperated at this. What had he done, he wondered. He had not even touched her, or cursed her. Why was she giving him that look?

He sighed inwardly. He heard rustling sounds from the other end of the room, and turned around. Merope Granger had climbed into bed. She was now pulling the covers up to her chin, and drawing the curtains tightly shut around her bed. Tom turned back to his pacing He should go to bed later, he decided.

Finally, after a few more minutes of pacing about and planning his actions for tomorrow, Tom decided to go to bed. He started to get ready for bed.

Tom plopped onto his bed, and started to pull off the covers. He put his wand under his pillow, as he always did, and climbed into bed. He did not bother to ward his bed. The Head Girl would not dare to disturb him, Tom decided. If she does, he would make sure that she suffers the consequences of it. He smirked satisfactorily at this thought. He could not help to wonder what was it like to break the girl apart.

Tom lay down on the bed, and rolled onto his back. From across the room, he could hear the Head Girl's soft and even breathing. He sighed, and rolled over again. The night was so peaceful and quiet. He closes his eyes and waited for sleep to come, listening to the girl's breathing again. Tom wondered how she looked when she was asleep. Perhaps she looked more beautiful and angelic.

He shook himself violently again. What in the name of God was he thinking? He must have been insane, he scolded himself. Stop thinking about the girl now! Why can't he stop his thoughts from wandering towards her?

A few minutes later, drowsiness overtook him. He started to drift off to sleep.

Just when he was about to fall asleep completely, Tom heard rustling on the other side of the bed. The rustling grew louder, and Tom heard pounding sounds too. Then, he heard screams.

He jerked up immediately, and looked around. Merope Granger was thrashing about violently in her bed. The curtains and covers were twisted around her and were all tangled up. She was screaming too.

Tom swung his long legs over the bed, and started to walk towards the other end of the room. The girl was definitely pissing him off. Why was she having terrible nightmares? Her screams were unnerving and unbearable.

Tom walked closer to the bed, and looked down at the girl. Her eyes were still tightly shut, but her whole body was still trembling. Her lips were trembling, and tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"Please! Please! No!" she was screaming. More tears were streaming down her cheeks. Her fists were pounding the pillow which she lay on furiously. "No! Stop! I don't know, I really don't remember!"

Tom stood rooted to the spot for a moment. He did not know what to do.

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Hermione was in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. They had just entered the Hall of Prophecies, and Harry had taken the prophecy from the shelf.

Now, Hermione was in the corridors, waiting for Harry and Ron to join her. Harry was now battling with another Death Eater.

Antonine Dolohov advanced on Hermione. They dueled for a moment, then Hermione was slightly shocked as a purple jet of light shot out of Dolohov's wand, and started to move towards her. She tried to dodge the curse, but it was too late. It collided with her chest, and Hermione collapsed onto the floor, fading into oblivion.

The scene changed again.

Hermione was on the cold marble floor of Malfoy Manor. Belatrix Lestrange was crouching down beside her, holding her wand in her left hand and a knife in another.

"Now, Mudblood! Tell me now!" Belatrix shrieked loudly like a madwoman. "Where did the three of you have the sword?"

"Please! Please!" Hermione said, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her body was still burning with pain after suffering a few rounds of the cruciatous curse.

"Liar! Crucio!"

Hermione screamed again. Her body twitched uncontrolabably on its own accord. Hermione screamed and screamed. The pain was unbearable.

Belatrix placed the knife's blade at Hermione's throat.

"Now, you would tell me the truth, and we'll be done once and for all, Mudblood!" Belatrix said, moving the blade up and down Hermione's throat threateningly.

"No! No! No! Stop! I don't know, I don't remember!"

"Don't lie, Mudblood! Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!"

The pain was unbearable. Hermione closed her eyes. She hoped that Belatrix would lift the curse off soon. She did not want to suffer anymore. She hoped that someone would come quickly, and rescue the three of them from this horrible hell of a place. She wondered how Harry and Ron were doing down at the dungeons, where she had heard Lucius Malfoy ordered someone to take them there.

"Crucio!" Belatrix Lestrange casted the curse again after a few seconds where she had finally lifted it before.

"Please!" Hermione screamed again. "Stop this! I don't know! I really don't remember!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione jerked awake, panting. Tears were still streaming down her cheeks. She was sweating all over, and her nightgown was sticking to her back. The curtains and covers were tangled around her legs. She kicked them off furiously, and opened her eyes. She wiped away her tears from her face, and looked around her. She found herself staring into a pair of midnight blue eyes.

Hermione shuddered. The young dark lord was now standing a few feet away from her, observing her with a thoughtful expression on his face. Hermione quickly calmed herself. Chills were running down her spine again.

Damn. Why must she have those terrible nightmares again? The young dark lord would certainly be curious, and he would found out from her about this eventually. Hermione shook herself violently. Now is not the time to think about these things. She prepared herself to face the young dark lord.

When she turned to look at him again, he was still standing there. He was looking straight at her, with a calculating and slightly puzzled look on his face.

Then, he turned abruptly, and walked away. Hermione shook her head. She was puzzled. What was he thinking, Hermione wondered. She wished that she could read his thoughts.

She heard a sigh, as the other occupant of the room got into the opposite bed, and pulled the curtains around it.

Hermione brushed hair away from her face, and stood up. She went into the bathroom, and splashed hot water onto her face. Then, she walked back to her bed. She should go back to sleep now. She would worry about the young dark lord in the morning.

She climbed back into bed, and once again drew the curtains tightly shut. She leaned back into her pillow, and rolled onto her side.

Hermione closed her eyes, and thought about peaceful memories. She remembered the day when Professor McGonagall first came to her house, informing her that she was a witch. She remembered being saved from the troll by Harry and Ron. She remembered Harry, Ron and herself playing wizard's chess in the Gryfindor commonroom. She remembered dancing at the Yule Ball with Victor Crum. And she remembered celebrating with Harry and Ron after Harry's spectacular success in completing his task in the tournament, where he had successfully obtained the egg of the Hungarian Horntail.

And she drifted off into sleep once more. This time, Hermione did not have another nightmare. She slept peacefully for the rest of the night.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tom remained rooted to the spot. He was not sure what to do. Merope Granger continued to thrash about in her bed.

Tom started to take a few steps forward. Perhaps he should wake her, he thought. He hesitated at the foot of the bed. He had never touched anyone before, not even his closest followers.

Suddenly, her breathing ceased, and her eyelids fluttered open.

Tom quickly drew back, and stood a few feet away from the bed. He stared at the girl in front of him.

She kicked off the covers furiously, and sat up. Tom watched as she wiped the tears on the sleeves of her nightgown. And then, she looked up. She stared straight into his eyes.

For a moment, Tom was mesmerized. Her hazel brown eyes were so warm and sparkling. He could not resist staring into them.

Suddenly, Tom shook himself violently. What was he thinking again? He turned away quickly, and walked towards his bed.

He plopped down on his bed, and drew the curtains tightly shut around the bed. He adjusted his pillow into a more comfortable position, and lay down once more.

He closed his eyes, and tried to sleep again. He heard the bathroom door clicked again, as Merope Granger walked out of bed. He wondered what she was doing now.

A few minutes later, he heard another click, and footsteps walking across the room. He heard the girl getting back into bed.

Tom sighed. Merope Granger was really giving him a headache now. No girl had such an effect on him. It had only been one day, and Tom had suffered so much, just because of her.

Tom rolled onto his side. He was feeling very irritated. This cannot go on. He would be insane before he leave Hogwarts, if this girl continues to haunt his thoughts for the rest of the year. He would have to act quickly, before it is too late.

With these thoughts in mind, Tom Marvolo Riddle finally drifted off into a disturbed and unmerciful sleep.

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** Haha! There! Finally it's done! Took me some time to type this up, as it is longer than the other chapters.

** Please read and review! Hope all of you liked it. And, sorry for the long wait!

^^ Hermione Hean Fui ^^


	8. Chapter 8 Mr I-Don't-Do-Formalities

A/N: Hey! I've just finished the new chapter. Hope all of you liked it.

Sheddingeverycolor: Once again, many thanks for ur review. This chapter is written specially for you, as Tom and Hermione's first conversation will take place here. Hope u liked it. Do continue to review! Thanks.

Twibe: Thanks for ur review! I'll probably get a beta soon, as I'm quite new on fanfiction and just started to write my first story. Glad u liked the previous chapters. As for the detectors for unforgivables, I'm assuming that Hogwarts haven't got them yet at this time period. The detectors were only put up after Dumbledore fought Grindelwald, and won the battle, and remained there until Hermione's time. Hope it's not AU, as I'm not very sure about this myself, haha!

I actually realized that I spelled some names of characters wrongly. For instance, it is Alphard Black, instead of Alfer Black. I'll make sure to correct my mistakes. Sorry. By the way, if any of u happened to come across other mistakes, please do inform me in ur reviews, as I'll be glad to correct it. I haven't got an editor for my story yet, and this is only my first Tomione story. So, I hhoped all of u would bear with me, for any spelling or grammatical errors, ok? Ive checked it once, but I'm not sure whether I missed out anything or not. I'll try to improve my story as best as possible as the chapters come along, but I hope that all of u would not be disappointed if u finds this story terrible. Sorry again, and thanks for those who reviewed. Feel free to offer suggestions to improve this story. I'll appreciate it very much. Thanks for the hundredth time, hahaha!

Oh, enough of this for now. On with the story! Enjoy!

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Chapter 8: Mr. I-Don't-Do-Formalities

Hermione awoke a few hours later, feeling fresh and ready for the day. She stretched on the bed and yawned. Morning was approaching, and she could see the dark sky brightening slightly through the window at the far side of the room. She pulled out her wand from under her pillow, and pointed it at the pillows and covers on the bed, before flicking her wand in a circular movement. At once, the pillows, quilt and covers of the bed arranged themselves neatly and fall into place onto her bed.

Hermione smoothed the curtains, and drew them together neatly around her bed, as she got up.

The young dark lord was still asleep, Hermione noted, snoring softly at the far end of the room. Hermione dared a glance at him. The curtains of his big four-poster bed were slightly drawn apart, and Hermione could just make out his face through the small gap. Once again, Hermione could not help noticing how peaceful and innocent he looked when he was asleep. She wondered once again whether he feels remorse after his horrible acts the last couple of years back. She wondered how he feels when he first opened the Chamber of Secrets, killed Myrtle and then killed his own family.

The horrified and disgusted feeling once again overcome Hermione. She closed her eyes, and took a few deep breaths. She should not think about these things so early in the morning, Hermione decided. It would definitely make her day worse. She had no intention to spoil her day again.

A heavy sinking feeling once again overtook her, as she started to get ready for the day. Hermione remembered what she had promised herself yesterday; she would have to confront Tom Riddle today. She had no other choice, since they were working together, as head students for the school.

Hermione busied herself by packing her schoolbag. Just as yesterday, she stuffed her beaded bag into a hidden compartment in her schoolbag, for precaution. Then, she went into the bathroom, and showered.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione emerged from the bathroom, toweling her wet hair dry. She preferred using the Muggle way of drying her hair, and not flicking her wand to produce the drying charm. She liked it when it was done naturally, rather than using magic.

After her hair was dry, Hermione tied it up neatly and let it hung loosely down her back. She took one last look at the mirror, pinned her Head Girl badge onto her uniform pocket, and turned to walk out of the room.

Before closing the door quietly behind her, Hermione glanced once again at the other side of the room. The young dark lord was still sleeping soundly. Hermione gathered that he was not a morning person after all. She considered waking him, but thought better of it. As long as Hermione was concerned, Tom Riddle can sleep as much as he wished, and she was certainly not going to wake that psychopathic murderer up. The later he rises, the better, Hermione decided. She would have more time pondering her next move. She should think carefully about what she was going to said to him during their confrontation later.

"Hi. I'm Merope Granger. And you are?" Hermione said to herself. That definitely sound silly, she scoffed inwardly. He had already knew her name, after the formal introduction done by Dippet at the Great Hall yesterday.

Hermione growled in frustration. She could not possibly think of what to say to Riddle. As far as she was concerned, she would prefer to get this confrontation over with once and for all. Then, both of them can move on without any more trouble.

From opposite the room, a long sigh was heard. Hermione turned slightly, and dared a glance at the opposite side of the room. The young Voldemort had rolled onto his side, and was still sleeping. Hermione quickly turned away, and exited the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

As she walked down the staircase leading to the commonroom, she continued to ponder her options for approaching the young dark lord later. How in the name of God was she going to communicate with that cold-hearted and evil murderer?

"Hello psycho! How many murders have you committed so far? Have you made your third horcrux yet? Do you feel any remorse at all?" Hermione thought to herself. This seems the most appropriate way to confront him, she noted. "Oh, if only this is that easy," Hermione grumbled, pushing past the portrait of the young lady, and exiting the dormitory. It would definitely be impossible to start the conversation this way. She would be in her grave before she knew it.

The day was still early, and there were not many students who were up yet. Hermione wandered along the quiet corridors, humming silently to herself. Her mood had slightly improved when she stepped out of the dormitory just now. She reasoned that she would not let that psychopath ruined her day today. He had taken away so much from her, and Hermione would not bear it any longer. She was not going to allow a certain Tom Marvolo Riddle to haunt her thought and break her. The war had definitely made her stronger, Hermione contemplated. She should be strong for her parents, for Harry and Ron, and she kept telling herself that she would be back soon. All of this terrible nightmare would end soon, and she would live a normal life again.

With this thought in mind, Hermione walked on cheerfully through the corridors of Hogwarts. As she walked, Hermione could not help noticing the portraits and paintings on the walls. She had seen most of them before during her time, but they looked slightly older and dustier then now. Now, there was a new look to all the portraits and paintings. Hermione smiled at most of the portraits. Some of them returned her smile, and others merely gave her a courteous nod before dozing off to sleep, or before they went to visit other portraits.

Hermione was just turning a corner on the third floor corridor when she remembered something. She has to go to the hospital wing, to obtain some Dreamless Sleep Potion. The Calming Potion was not helping her much. She must do something fast before Tom Riddle realized that something was off with her behaviour, as she was still having those terrible nightmares.

Hermione sighed, and traced back her steps. She headed in the direction of the hospital wing. She turned into the corridor when she saw the white double doors of the building.

Hermione knocked softly on the door before entering. The hospital looked exactly like it had been in her time. The white walls were polished clean, and the white hospital beds were neatly lined at the centre of the room. Seeing no one in there, Hermione walked to the far end of the room, where another door was situated. Back in her time, this had been Madam Pomfrey's office. She wondered whether the matron of the hospital wing of the 1940s had an office too.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione walked towards the door. Just as she was going to knock on the door, it opened, and a woman in her mid-forties stepped out, pushing a trolley with a few bottles on it. Hermione noted that the bottles contained all kinds of medicines and potions, which was no doubt used in healing.

The woman seemed surprised to see Hermione. Nevertheless, she gave Hermione a wide smile, and pushed the trolley to the other end of the room, where she began to arrange the bottles according to their different category onto separate shelves.

"Good morning, my dear. How may I help you?" the woman said, in a soothing voice. Hermione noticed that this woman looked less stern and bossy compared to the Madam Pomfrey back in her time.

"Hello. I'm Merope Granger, the new Head Girl. I've just enrolled at Hogwarts," Hermione began, offering the woman a broad smile.

"Hello, Ms. Granger. I'm Madam McCarthy, the matron of the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Nice to meet you, and welcome to our wonderful school," the woman said, giving Hermione another motherly smile.

Hermione felt warm inside. She was beginning to like Madam McCarthy.

Both of them chatted for a few more minutes. Hermione learned that Madam McCarthy had studied at Hogwarts, graduated, and went to train as a healer at St. Mongo's, before coming back to be matron of the hospital upon Dippet's request.

"Now, how may I help such a nice young lady?" Madam McCarthy said after a few more polite exchanges between them.

"Oh," Hermione said, forgetting her intention of being her. "I was wondering whether you've a strong Dreamless Sleep Potion. You see, Madam McCarthy, I kept on having recurring nightmares about the war, and I'm afraid that a calming potion would not help me. I've tried it for a few times, but it did not seem to work."

Hermione hoped that Madam McCarthy would buy her story and not ask her too many questions. Nevertheless, what she was telling the matron was actually half true, Hermione noted.

"Oh, of course, my dear," Madam McCarthy said, walking towards a shelf at the far left. She took down a big bottle, which contained a clear liquid, and gave it to Hermione.

"I think this would help, my dear," she said. "Here you go. This is indeed a stronger potion than normal, Ms. Granger. In fact, it took me years to figure out this potion, thanks to the help of someone. We've just managed to put down the right adjustments on this potion, and it had not been tested yet so far. So, are you honoured to be our guest?"

Hermione looked slightly worried. Madam McCarthy noticed it, and smiled reassuringly at her. "Oh, not to worry, my dear. We've only added a few more ingredients, and I assured you that these caused no harm at all." She patted Hermione on the back softly, and held out the bottle.

Hermione still looked unsure. "I'm sure it'll work out well, dear. After all, he told me that he had tested it himself for a few times."

Hermione noticed that Madam McCarthy's face brightened up after saying that. Hermione wondered who that "someone" was, but thought better of it before asking Madam McCarthy. She would not pry further into the matron's business, Hermione decided.

Madam McCarthy handed Hermione the large bottle of potion. "You can have all of it, my dear. I still have enough stock. As a matter of fact, I'll have new supplies soon."

"Thank you, Madam McCarthy," Hermione said, placing the bottle into her schoolbag.

"Oh, no worries at all, Ms. Granger," Madam McCarthy said. "I hope this will help you."

"Yeah, I hope so too," Hermione said. She bid Madam McCarthy goodbye before heading out of the hospital wing.

Hermione made her way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. By now, students have already walking about in the corridors, getting ready for the day. Hermione entered the Great Hall and walked towards the Gryfindor table. Minerva, Charles, Bilius, Roger and Mariana waved at her, and greeted her warmly.

"Morning, Merope," Bilius said, spooning a mouthful of porridge into his mouth.

"Morning, guys," Hermione said cheerfully, sitting down beside between Minerva and Charles. Minerva helped Hermione to pile her plate with food, and Charles poured pumpkin juice into Hermione's goblet.

"Do you have a nice night?" Mariana asked after Hermione had downed her glass of pumpkin juice. She was so thirsty and starving.

"Yes, I did. Thank you," Hermione said, as Charles passed her another piece of toast.

"Mariana, would you stop having silly thoughts in your head?" Minerva said, with a slightly bored expression on her face. "Stop teasing Merope, will you? She already said that he did not fancy Riddle."

"Okay, okay," Mariana said, "You don't have to give me that look, Mini."

Mariana pretended to be offended. However, when Roger offered her a piece of toast, her face lit up again.

"Oh, I just loved the food at Hogwarts," Mariana said, munching away on the piece of toast noisily.

"Humph!" Minerva huffed, exchanging an exasperated with Hermione and Charles.

"Bear with her, Merope," Minerva said, "She's sometimes a pain in the neck, but you'll eventually get used to her."

"I know," Hermione said, looking at the laughing Mariana again. Mariana was now cracking jokes with Roger and bilius, ignoring the others altogether. Hermione sighed, and shook her head. Then, she turned away, and started to talk to Minerva and Charles about the lessons of the day.

"By the way, what did Slughorn want yesterday?" Charles asked Hermione a few minutes later.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you guys," Hermione said, remembering now. "He invited me to the Slug Club."

"Ah, I should have guessed," Charles said, "After all, you're brilliant in his class yesterday."

Hermione blushed at this compliment. "Lucky you, Merope. I hope I can join the club myself," Charles said.

"I heard most students are invited there," Hermione said, pretending to sound confused.

"Oh, not all of them," Roger cut in. "Only students with potential, or have established families were invited there."

"Yeah," Charles said, his face falling. "Minerva here is invited, but she would not bring me there, no matter how many times I bugged her."

"Come off it, mate," Bilius said, tuning into their conversation. "You know how difficult it is to talk our little Mini here into something."

"You'll probably make a fool of yourself if I bring you there, Charles," Minerva said, slightly offended.

"Oh?" Charles said, "I'm hurt." He clutched at his chest, pretending to look hurt.

Minerva slapped him playfully on the shoulders.

"So, will you be so kind to bring me as your partner, Merope?" Charles turned to Hermione, after punching Minerva's shoulders with his fists gently.

"It depends on your behaviour, Charles," Hermione teased, giving the boy a sheepish grin. "If I find that you've behaved well throughout the week, I'll be happy to bring you as my partner to Slughorn's party."

"Oh, don't worry. I'll make sure that I behaved well," Charles said, returning Hermione's grin. Both of them laughed simultaneously, and received a stern look from Minerva, who was finishing up her porridge.

"Oh, Mini. Don't spoil the fun," Charles said, pretending to look hurt again. Minerva just gave him another stern look.

"Okay, okay," Charles said finally, throwing up his hands in surrender. "Let's talk about something else, shall we? After all, little Mini here is a bit jealous when I flirted with you, my dear Merope."

Hermione and Minerva both blushed, and slapped Charles' shoulders.

"Ow! What's that for?" the boy moaned, and pushed the two girls away.

The three of them laughed, and joked around for a few more minutes. Hermione was feeling quite happy now. All her previous worries were forgotten for now. She joked along with Charles and Minerva. However, Hermione's happiness did not last long.

"So, you're not taking Divination?" Minerva asked, after Hermione had had another piece of toast.

"No, I think it's a load of rubbish," Hermione said, "who would want to know about things in the future?"

"I don't know," Minerva said, "I didn't take it too. Only a few students in the school qualified for the advanced classes. Riddle was one of them."

Hermione chuckled to herself. The dark lord taking Divination? She could not believe that he would buy that kind of nonsense stuff learned in that subject. Of course, she admitted that Harry, Ron and herself had found out that the dark lord have a thing for prophecies, thus she assumed that he took Divination back in his time.

"Neither should live while the other survived," Hermione mumbled to herself, remembering the prophecy made by Professor Trilawney back in her time. This was the prophecy that held all the fate of the wizarding world, as it contained the predicament of Harry and Lord Voldemort. Although Hermione disliked Professor Trilawney, she could not deny that she admired the woman in some ways. The woman had made the prophecy herself, without knowing it. Hermione wondered how Professor Trilawney's predicaments were sometimes true, as she had indeed predicted that at the end of Easter during Hermione's third year, one of the students would leave her class forever. And Hermione Jean Granger was that particular student in question.

Beside her, Hermione heard Minerva chuckling softly.

"Wow, Merope," Minerva said, still chuckling to herself. "Was that a predicament you just made?"

"I'm sorry?" Hermione said, failing to catch where Minerva was steering the conversation.

Minerva looked at her again. "I mean, was what you said just now a predicament?"

"Huh? What do you...?"

And then, Hermione realized what Minerva was talking about. She covered her mouth with her hands, preventing a frustrated scream from escaping her mouth. She had slipped out some important information. She had just said the prophecy out loud. It had not been made yet, at this time period. No one, not even Dumbledore, should know about it.

Hermione moaned inwardly. If only she was careful enough, the information would not have slipped out from her mouth so easily. Now, she had to think up a cover story as quickly as possible, before Minerva and the others suspect anything.

"Oh," Hermione said, quickly masking her panic with a small smile at Minerva. "It's nothing at all. I made it up, just for fun, you know? There's a Divination professor back in France too, and my parents once sent me there for lessons. She was mumbling about prophecies and other stuff like that. The one I mentioned just now was one of her silly prophecies."

She said all of this in a rush, hoping that Minerva will buy her story.

"Oh, I see," Minerva said, grinning at Hermione. "I liked the sound of it, you know? What was the prophecy again?"

Hermione sighed. There was no easy way to get out of this conversation. She would have to repeat the prophecy to Minerva, before asking the girl to drop the subject.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione finally said, "Neither should live while the other survived."

"Nice one," Minerva said. Charles had just tuned into their conversation.

"That made no sense at all," he said, cutting in.

"What did you mean?" Minerva said.

"The prophecy seemed to suggest that both the persons who were bound by it will either live or die, or both cannot live at all," Charles said. "This is my interpretation."

Hermione looked at Charles. "Oh, you have no idea how correct you are, Mr. Potter," Hermione thought to herself. "In fact, you've just discovered the fate of your own future grandson." Hermione smiled softly at Charles.

"An interesting interpretation," Hermione pretended to sound overwhelmed.

"Yeah, come to think of it, your interpretation made much sense," Minerva said. "I wonder who would be so stupid in making this prophecy. What's the point of it anyway?"

"You never know," Charles said. Hermione tried to control herself from collapsing into a fit of giggles. The fact that Minerva McGonagall was mocking her future colleague, Sybil Trilawney was so funny, that Hermione could not help imagining how the situation would look like.

"Anyway, if there was indeed such a prophecy," Charles continued, "I wonder who those two unlucky persons were. Neither of them can live."

"Oh, if only I can tell you about it, Mr. Potter," Hermione sighed inwardly. "There's so much that all of you have no knowledge about."

Hermione straightened up. "It's nothing," she said quickly, before Charles and Minerva can open their mouths to give another comment on the subject.

"This is all nonsense," Hermione said. "I doubt there was such a prophecy at all."

"We can always check, you know? In our Ministry, there was a place that stored all kinds of prophecies, known as the Hall of Prophecies. My great Aunt Lucinda worked there," Charles said. "I can ask her to look and see whether there is really this prophecy."

Oh no, oh no, oh no! Hermione was beginning to get more agitated. She tried to think of an excuse to counter Charles' suggestion.

"Charles, drop it. We don't have time for such nonsense. Our NEWTs are approaching," Minerva scolded him.

"Okay, okay. Just curious, that's all," Charles said. "Maybe I'll ask someone else about this, you know. Maybe a classmate."

"You took Divination?" Hermione asked him.

"Yeah," Charles said, "I quite enjoyed the lesson. So, mind repeating the prophecy again, Merope?"

"What for?" Hermione asked quickly. She was beginning to get worry. What if Charles told this to the whole school? The future of the wizarding world would be doomed!

"I want to ask a classmate about it, or maybe Professor Casey," Charles said.

"Wait," Minerva said, "are you going to ask Riddle about this?"

Charles shrugged. "Yeah, he's the brightest student in the class. He'll know something about prophecies, don't you think, Mini?"

"I don't think this is a good idea, Charles," Minerva started to say.

"Oh, come on, Mini. I know you don't trust Riddle. I don't either, but there is not much harm obtaining more knowledge, is there? I'm sure he'll be glad to explain certain things to us, you know?" Charles said, giving Minerva a wink.

Minerva opened her mouth to protest, but Hermione quickly cut them off. She was beginning to feel more and more uncomfortable.

"Hey, can you guys drop this subject, please?" Hermione asked, with a slightly high-pitched voice. There was no way that Tom Marvolo Riddle should find out about the prophecy in this time period. Hermione would make sure that this never happened.

Charles gave her a disappointed look.

"Oh, it's just nonsense," Hermione said. "Don't think too much about it, okay?"

"Maybe I can just ask Professor Casey about it, then," Charles said, pushing a scrap of torn parchment towards Hermione and handing her a feather quill.

"Charles, please," Hermione said, getting more frantic. "Can you please drop it? Actually, this is really nonsense. There is no such thing at all. I made it up myself, okay?"

Minerva raised an eyebrow, and looked at Hermione with a calculating look. Charles' face fell slightly.

"Okay, as you wish, Merope," he said. "Can you just write that down for me? I mean, I just want to have some fun looking at it sometimes. I promise I'll not tell anyone about it."

"No way!" Hermione said playfully. "Who knows what would happen if it got into the wrong hands?"

"Huh?" Charles looked at her questioningly.

Hermione was saved from answering the question when students began to file out of the Great Hall. She quickly gathered up her bag, and turned to leave the Great Hall.

"Err, Mini?" she said, turning to Minerva.

"Yes?" Minerva gazed at Hermione, smiling.

"I'll appreciate it if you treat this conversation as though it never happened at all. Will you?"

Minerva looked at Hermione again. "Please, I have my reasons, Mini. I'll explain later."

"So, the prophecy was really true?" Minerva asked, in a low voice.

"Yeah, in some way, it is," Hermione said. "I'll tell you more later, but can you promise me that you would tell no one about this?"

Hermione instantly regretted her action. She wondered whether it was really saved to entrust the information about the prophecy to her future Transfiguration professor. However, it was too late, and there was no turning back now. She could tell Minerva as much as possible, leaving out most of the details, and inserting a few lies into the story.

"Not even Charles?"

"Mini…"

"Okay, okay," Minerva said, eyeing Hermione with a worried look on her face. "You looked pale, Merope. Are you alright?" She laid a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"I'm fine," Hermione said quickly. "I think I'm just tired."

"Don't stress yourself too much," Minerva said. "I know the NEWTs are important, but you have to give yourself a break sometimes, you know?"

Hermione smiled at Minerva. She turned again, and started to walk out of the Great Hall. Minerva was still finishing her breakfast, and promised to join Hermione later in History of Magic.

Hermione walked along the corridors, still slightly shaken from the conversation just now. For a split second, she considers hexing herself into oblivion. How could she be so stupid and slipped out vital information so easily? This was the past, not the future, she kept reminding herself. Nobody should know about the future now. Dumbledore's voice rang clearly in her head again.

"Bad things happened to witches and wizards who meddled with time, Ms. Granger."

She remembered when she first used the time turner to rescue Sirius from the dementors. That experience had left Hermione shaken for the next few years, and she dare not meddle with time again since then. Harry and herself were lucky that their plan worked. It was Dumbledore's own suggestion after all.

However, that situation was different from this one. Previously, she had only gone back in time for a few hours, just to rescue Sirius and help him to escape. They had also managed to save another innocent life, Buckbeak, and they were proud of it.

Hermione smiled at the memory. She remembered Sirius's cheerful smile when he grabbed onto Buckbeak, and both of them disappeared into the night sky afterwards.

"You really are the brightest witch for your age, Ms. Granger," Sirius had said, before flying away. Hermione had slightly blushed at this. Nevertheless, both Harry and herself were glad of what they have done. Ron had missed out on this adventure, but he also felt happy for Sirius after hearing the story from Harry and Hermione.

Hermione was so deep into her thoughts that she failed to notice a tall figure walking in front of her. She quickened her pace when she heard the first bell rang, signaling the beginning of lessons. Without warning, Hermione walked right into the tall figure. Caught by surprise, Hermione started to stumble back, but lost her balance. She bumped hard into the body again, and started to fell backwards.

Hermione managed to balance herself just in time, and pulled herself together. She straightened up, and started to apologize.

"I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking where I'm going," she said, offering the other person a warm smile.

Hermione could see that the student was a boy, who was a few inches taller than her, and he had dark hair, neatly combed and parted to one side.

The boy turned, and looked straight at her. She gazed right into a pair of familiar midnight blue eyes. Hermione's eyes widened in horror. She had bumped into none other than Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Riddle continued to stare at her for a moment. Then, he turned around and started to walk away, his face emotionless, just as before.

Hermione made up her mind quickly. "It was now or never," she told herself.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione quickened her pace, and tried to catch up with Riddle. She noticed that he walked with long strides, and she was finding it difficult to catch up with him. Students were running everywhere, and Hermione bumped into a few of them as she walked. She managed to mutter a few quick apologies, before hurrying along the corridor again.

Finally, Hermione managed to catch up with Riddle. He was just turning the corner of a corridor, which lead to the History of Magic classroom.

"Hey!" Hermione called out to him, slightly panting. She was out of breath, having bran after Riddle for a few corridors.

Riddle continued to walk, as though he had not heard her. The nerve of him! How someone could be so rude, Hermione wondered.

"Hey!" she tried again.

This time, Riddle turned, and gave her a questioning look.

"Fine," Hermione scoffed, "If he insisted on being rude, I'll play along."

"Hey, I said I'm sorry that I bumped into you just now. I wasn't looking where I was going," Hermione started.

Riddle continued to look at her, and then smirked. "I'm not deaf, you know?" he said finally. Hermione noticed that he used a cold and bored tone when he said this. There was no more charm in his voice, where he usually uses to entrance all the professors of Hogwarts.

"I heard you perfectly well, you know," Riddle continued, and turned away again.

"Hey, wait!" Hermione said, fumbling with her next words. What should she said now? For a split second, Hermione thought that she would tell Riddle straight out that he was being a rude idiot, but thought better about it.

"I think we've not properly introduced ourselves yet, you know. I only know you as the Head Boy," Hermione finally said, after managing to control her anger. Tom Riddle was definitely a pain in the neck!

Riddle turned to face her again.

"Well, if you insist on wasting time, I'll play along with you," he said forcefully. He towered over Hermione. She took a few steps back, and shuddered. Her knees begin to buckle. Hermione tried to control herself from shaking. She took a few deep breaths, and summoned all the courage left in her to confront Riddle once more. She had to do it, she told herself. It was now or never. She really could not go on like this, and let the psychopath murderer in front of her haunt her continuously.

She looked up finally, and saw a pair of midnight blue eyes staring at her. Quickly, she lowered her gaze. She was not sure whether Riddle had mastered occlumency and legilimency by now, but she reasoned that she would not take the risk. After all, he was Lord Voldemort, and her life would be at stake.

"I'm Merope Granger, Head Girl, Gryfindor house," Hermione said, extending her right hand reluctantly, after a few more seconds of silence.

Hermione watched Riddle. She wondered whether her name would have an effect on Riddle. After all, she had chosen to use the same name as his mother. However, riddle did not flinch or looked surprised at all. His face remained blank and emotionless. Oh, why must he be so difficult, Hermione sighed inwardly?

Riddle gave her another look, but did not take her extended hands.

"I'm Tom Riddle, Head Boy, Slytherin House," he said flatly.

He then took her hand, gave it a quick shake and drew back as fast as possible. Hermione noted that his fingers were cold, thin and long. Icy tingles ran up her arms as their skin made contact. Hermione could not believe her eyes. How could someone be so insufferable? After all, Riddle was treating her as though as she was having some contagious disease, and it might spread to him any time.

Hermione saw that he started to turn away again. So, she quickly added: "Nice to meet you, Mr. Riddle," Hermione said next, trying to sound friendly again. She reasoned that it would be useless to throw a tantrum in front of the young dark lord. She can let her anger out on other things later.

Riddle did not say anything at all. Hermione's patience finally snapped.

"You're very rude, you know?" she forced out. "You didn't bother to strike up conversation with me yesterday, and when I tried to be nice, you just ignored me altogether."

Hermione saw a flash of red in those midnight blue eyes. Oh no, she had hit a nerve! He would probably kill her later. However, the glint of red quickly disappeared, and Riddle smirked again.

"Call me what you like, Granger," he said, "I don't care. For your information, I don't do formalities."

Hermione was further pissed off. She took one last look at Riddle, and turned away.

"Fine then. I'll not bother you any longer, Mr. I-Don't-Do-Formalities. Good day to you."

And with that, Hermione stalked off down the corridor ahead of Riddle, heading to her first class for the day.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tom stretched, and rolled onto his side. He closed his eyes, and tried to catch a few more minutes of sleep. He had a bad night, after all, thanks to the Head Girl.

After rolling about for another ten minutes, he sighed, and pushed himself out of bed. He glanced out of the window beside his bed. The sky was already brightening, and the morning sun was streaming through the window. Tom cursed silently under his breath. He was going to be late for classes if he was not out of here in fifteen minutes.

Hastily, Tom gathered up his schoolbag, went into the bathroom for a quick shower, and started to dress for the day.

Ten minutes later, Tom arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast. Not many students were left now, as most of them had already left for classes.

Tom headed to the Slytherin table, and quickly wolfed down a few pieces of toast, and gulped two glasses of pumpkin juice. Then, he hastily got to his feet, and started to walk out of the Great Hall, heading to his first class for the day; History of Magic.

As he walked, Tom's thoughts wandered once more to the Head Girl. The girl was weird, Tom decided. Everything about her seemed out of place. Tom wished he could find out all of this soon, before he became insane.

She was having nightmares yesterday. They were not ordinary dreams, Tom gathered. They must have been quite violent, as she was thrashing, crying and screaming at the top of her voice. He wondered what the girl had dreamt about.

Tom was so occupied with his thoughts that he failed to notice someone walking close behind him. As the first bell rang, Tom quickened his pace. Suddenly, without warning, someone from behind bumped into him hard. Taken by surprise, Tom stumbled a few steps back, before regaining his balance. He was very angry. How dare that particular person bumped into him" Couldn't they just look where they are going?

He heard scuffling sounds, as the other person who had bumped into him regained balance, and straightened up. Tom noticed that it was a girl.

The girl started to apologize. Tom turned, and looked at her. He gazed into a pair of warm hazel brown eyes.

Merope Granger.

The nerve of this girl! She had bumped into him, and was apologizing now. Tom hated apologies. He would never in his life, apologize to anyone for what he had done. To him, apologizing means that he was admitting his own weakness, and Tom hated to show his weaknesses in front of other people.

He gave the girl another look, and turned away. He would deal with her later, he decided. He was already five minutes late for his class.

He continued to walk, ignoring the girl.

"Hey!" suddenly, he heard her calling out to him. Tom did not bother to turn around. He planned to ignore her.

She was now catching up with him. He could hear her panting slightly as she reached the spot where he was standing now.

"Hey! She called out again. Tom was getting more and more angry. Why couldn't the girl leave him alone? He turned and looked questioningly at the girl. Her hair was slightly messy again, as a result of the chase, Tom gathered. Tom wondered why she bothered to take the trouble to approach him. After all, she was ignoring him completely yesterday.

The Head Girl started to apologize again. Tom took a deep breath, and tried to control his anger. Finally, he forced out: "I'm not deaf, you know. I heard you perfectly just now, you know."

The girl looked taken aback, but quickly schooled her features into a small smile. Tom could not help noticing how pretty she looked when she smiled at him. He abruptly shook himself again. What the hell was he thinking now? Why does she have such an effect on him? No girl he had met so far could hold Tom's interest for so long. Tom turned away quickly, and started to walk down the corridor.

She called after him again. What she wanted now, Tom wondered in frustration. Couldn't she just leave him alone?

Tom's mood did not improve further when the girl asks him to introduce himself. In his opinion, the girl was just wasting her time. He was not a person to do formalities after all.

He scoffed in frustration. He decided to tell her off once and for all, but before he could open his mouth, the girl extended her hand towards him. He was slightly taken by surprise.

"I'm Merope Granger, Head Girl, Gryfindor house," she said, giving him a friendly smile.

Tom did not expect this at all. For a moment, he just looked at her, unsure of what to do next.

Tom just continued to stare at her. Then, abruptly, he grasps her hands lightly. Her fingers were warm and her skin was smooth and soft. A tinkling sensation floated through his arm as their skin made contact. Her skin brushed against his cold palms softly.

For a moment, Tom stood there, mesmerized. Her touch felt so nice and warm. Then, realizing what he was doing, he abruptly pulled away, and turned to walk away.

Before he could take a step forward, her voice sounded from behind him again.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Riddle."

What she was playing at now, Tom wondered. He did not say anything at all. He wished that the girl would leave him alone now.

"You're very rude, you know," her voice jolted him out of his thoughts again. Tom was boiling with anger now. How dare the girl insult him by calling him rude? After all, it was she who had bumped into him, and had waste his time by babbling nonsense about getting to know each other. He turned around to face her. He towered over her smaller form. For a moment, the girl stood transfixed to the spot.

Then, she took a few steps back. Her hazel brown eyes had widened, and Tom could detect a hint of fear in them. He was getting more and more puzzled. Did he manage to frighten her already? Nevertheless, he was pleased with himself. Finally, he did have some effect on the girl after all.

The girl was silent for a moment. Seeing that she was not going to said anything more, Tom decided to end the conversation and make things easier.

"Call me what you like, Granger," he said, "I don't care. For your information, I don't do formalities."

For a moment, the girl just stared at him. Tom could detect frustration written all over her face. He was glad that he had finally hit a nerve in her. She turned, and pushed past him.

"Fine then. I'll not bother you any longer, Mr. I-don't-do-formalities," she said in a cold and rude voice, "Good day to you."

Tom watched the girl's back with hatred. Who the hell did she think she was? How dare she mock him? He would not let this happen again.

Merope Granger is going to learn not to cross paths with him, Tom decided. She would learn her place in this school tonight. He would make sure she understood and comply with all his wishes.

Tom laughed softly, and grinned. He is going to break the girl tonight, and nothing would stop him.

Tom Marvolo Riddle would get whatever he wanted, no matter how hard and impossible the circumstances were.

Tom straightened up, and continued on his way.

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** There! Please read and review! Hope all of you liked it!

** Next chapter will be up soon!

^^ Hermione Hean Fui ^^


	9. Chapter 9 THE TASK

A/N: Hello there! I've just finished another new chapter, as I still have no plans for the holidays yet. So, I guess updates are going to be very frequent for now, as always. Once again, thanks for those who reviewed.

Sheddingeverycolor and loves2readalways: Glad you liked the previous chapter. Hope you liked this one as well. Do continue to review! Thanks.

Now, on with the story! Enjoy!

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Chapter 9: The Task

The day passed smoothly for Hermione. Although she was rather in a bad mood after her first conversation with Riddle, Hermione did not show it. She merely pretended that nothing had happened at all. She managed to plaster her smile back onto her face as she walked into History of Magic. Minerva and Charles had saved a seat for her, beside Roger, and Hermione plopped down onto the chair after thanking them. Roger gave her a small smile, and Hermione returned it.

Mariana was talking to Minerva and the others again. She even offered to take notes for Hermione, but Hermione quickly declined it. She did not trust the girl, given that she always flirted with boys throughout most of the classes she attended. Hermione was afraid that she might miss out something important, and she was not going to risk the chance. She declined Mariana's offer politely, giving the girl a warm smile.

The class was boring just as during her time period. The only difference is Professor Binns is now still a professor, and had not become a ghost yet. However, he still drawled in that bored voice of his. Nevertheless, Hermione paid attention in his class [as she always does back in her time, although she thought that the subject was boring], and jotted down notes on rolls of parchments. Most of the students were starting to nod off before half the period of the class had passed Charles had merely looked at the board, and nod off to sleep five minutes later. Minerva on the other hand, yawned quietly, and struggled to keep her eyes open. However, halfway through the lesson, she too gave up, and slumped back into her chair, closing her eyes. Mariana was happily flirting with Roger, who was trying his best to ignore her.

Hermione continued to jot down notes. She glanced around the classroom, and saw that Malfoy and his gang were quietly playing with their quills, transforming them into various colours, and throwing them at each other. Her glance eventually settled on a certain dark-haired Slytherin, who was sitting a few rows ahead of her. He was also jotting down notes, his quill moving smoothly along the parchment. Hermione could see that his handwriting was very neat and elegantly scripted onto the parchment. For a moment, she wondered how someone could write like him. It was absolutely amazing; with the letters neatly printed onto the parchment as though it had been typed or imprinted there by a machine. Even she could not write like that, Hermione noted with slight disappointment. She even liked the way his thin and long fingers curved around the quill, gripping it firmly while he scribbled away on his parchment.

She sighed and quickly looked away, before Mariana's critical eagle eyes noticed that she was staring at Riddle again. She did not think that she would be able to endure another round of do-you-fancy-Riddle questioning session from Mariana. She had already had enough of it.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson, students stretched, and started to get out of the classroom. Hermione recapped her ink bottle, rolled up her parchment, and marked the page where Professor Binns had last finished for the day. Then, she dumped all of this into her schoolbag, and followed Minerva and Charles out of the class. Mariana had dragged Bilius and Roger out of the classroom, immediately after the bell rang. She said that she wanted to show them something interesting. Hermione and Minerva exchanged exasperated looks, and managed to give both Bilius and Roger a sympathetic look, before Mariana dragged them out of the classroom by their collars. Bilius and Roger tried to protest, but Mariana continued to drag them along with her, pretending not to hear their shouts.

"What is our next class?" Minerva asked, after slinging her bag over her shoulders.

"I have Divination," Charles said, "Both of you have two periods free before lunch. Then, we'll have Arithmancy in the afternoon."

"Great," Hermione thought to herself. She would have some time to research Harperlindo McKenna's theory in the library. Fortunately for Hermione, Minerva decided to finish up her homework, and headed for Gryfindor tower. Charles walked off to his class after bidding Hermione and Minerva goodbye. The three of them promised to meet during lunch at the Great Hall.

Hermione was about to turn and walk towards the library, when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. She turned, and gazed into a pair of warm blue eyes. For a moment, she thought it was Riddle, and started to panic. Her knees started to buckle, and she tried as best as possible to maintain her balance.

"Merope?" she heard a slightly worried voice. "Are you okay?"

She turned around, and saw a soft face staring up at her. It was not Riddle.

Hermione looked up, and found Alphard Black standing behind her, his hands still on her shoulders. Calmness overtook her, and she managed to smile at Alphard.

"Oh, I thought you were someone else," Hermione said, giving him another smile.

"You scared me, you know," Alphard said, taking his hands off Hermione's shoulders. "You looked as though you've been attacked by someone."

"I'm sorry, Alphard," Hermione said apologetically. "Maybe it's the aftermath of the war, you know? I've learn to be more alert and be prepared, as the attacks often come suddenly without warning, you know." Hermione said this quickly, trying to sound brave. She hoped that Alphard would believe her story.

She really had to get a grip on herself. She was not going to let Lord bloody Voldemort ruin her life by haunting her thoughts every day and night, and scaring the daylight out of her. She should be strong, and always be prepared to face what was coming next.

Alphard gave her a questioning look, but he never said another word about the subject. Hermione was quite glad about it.

"So, are you free now?" Alphard asked, falling into step beside Hermione.

"Yeah, I was planning to go to the library, to do some light reading before lunch," Hermione said.

"Oh, I see," he said, "Mind if I joined you?"

Hermione pondered this for a moment. If Alphard joined her in the library, she would not be able to research on McKenna's theory. She did not dare to risk the chance, even though she had treated Alphard as her friend. One can never be too careless around here, Hermione noted, especially when there is a psychopathic cold-blooded murderer still at loose, and the entire population of the school has no knowledge about it.

Finally, after making up her mind, Hermione said, "Not at all. In fact, I'll be glad that you're willing to accompany me, Alphard."

Alphard gave her a wide grin, and reached for her hand. They linked arms, and walked together down the corridors, talking and laughing happily. A warm sensation was beginning to spread through Hermione's body. She was beginning to like Alphard more and more. She found that they can easily get along with each other, although they did not have much in common.

They reached the library, and stepped through the double doors. Madam Perrywinkle beamed at them as they passed the front desk, and both of them smiled back at the librarian, before making their through the shelves, to find a place to sit down. Alphard suggested that they find a place which was less crowded, so that they would not be interrupted by the loud chatter of students, and it would make conversation easier. Thus, they headed for a small table, which was just enough to accommodate two people, at the far right corner of the library, and put down their bags on the floor.

Both of them chatted on about their families for a few more minutes. Hermione told Alphard about her family [the false story, of course], and Alphard told Hermione about his brothers and cousins. Alphard stated that his younger brother, Orion would be attending Hogwarts next year, along with his cousin, Wolburga Black, Lucricia's sister. Hermione smiled at this. These were Sirius's parents, she remembered, having read it on the family tapestry in Number 12, Grimmauld place during the summer holidays, where the Order of the Phoenix were having their secret meetings. Hermione smiled at the memory.

"Merope?" Alphard suddenly said, after a few moments of silence between them.

"Hmm?"

Alphard just looked at her, with a troubled expression on his face. Hermione could tell that he was troubled by something.

"Alphard, what is it?" she said, laying her hand gently on his arm.

Alphard continued to gaze at Hermione, with an unsure expression on his face. Finally, he said, "Merope, do you remember what I told you last night?"

Hermione looked at him, and nodded.

"Yeah, you told me to be careful around Riddle, right?"

Hermione was beginning to feel uncomfortable. She did not wish to discuss this subject at this moment. She had planned to drive all thoughts about Riddle out of her mind for the time being. However, she had no choice, as Alphard had brought it up again, and Hermione would have to play along with him, so that he would not be suspicious.

"Yeah, and I promised to tell you more about it today, right?" Alphard said, his voice gaining back some confidence.

"Yeah, I remembered. So, are you going to tell me the reason now, Alphard?" Hermione pretended to sound interested.

Alphard nodded, and clear his throat.

As Hermione expected, Alphard started to ramble off about the opening of the Chamber of Secrets two years ago, how a student named Morgana Myrtle was killed, and how many others were being petrified. Hogwarts was completely in chaos after that, Alphard informed her. Parents started to write to Dippet, worrying about their children's safety, auras running about in the grounds, trying to gather as much evidence as possible, Ministry officials coming and going, questioning students and all the staff of the school repeatedly. Alphard said that the culprit had been caught at least, and it turned out that Riddle was the one who caught the culprit.

"That was absolutely rubbish, if you ask me," Alphard said, "I knew Rubeus Hagrid very well. He wouldn't even hurt a spider, you see. How can you imagining him killing a student, using a giant monster?"

Hermione smiled at this. At least not all the students in Hogwarts believed Riddle. She was pleased with this.

"I suspected that Riddle was behind it," Alphard said in a low voice. "Even Dumbledore seemed to think that Riddle had something up his sleeves, but he did not have sufficient evidence to nail him down. I believed Riddle framed Hagrid for the murder, you know."

"You're absolutely right, Alphard," Hermione sighed inwardly. "Oh, how I wish I can tell you this."

"He's mad, I think. Who knows how many more terrible things he had done outside of school during the break?" Alphard continued. "Even strange events started to take place after the incident two years ago. Students were starting to disappear for a long time, before turning up again. Some girls have been hit by dark curses, and have to spend a few months in the infirmary. Dippet suspected that this was Grindelwald's doing, but I personally don't think so. I think Riddle was behind all this."

"Oh, indeed," Hermione pretended to sound shock. Alphard continued his story. Hermione asked him questions where she thought appropriate, so that he would not be suspicious. He went on to suggest that Riddle had been up to no good since he first set foot in Hogwarts.

"From the first day I met him, I could tell that something was not right with him. He kept to himself all the time, and never showed any emotion. I sometimes wonder how he managed to live his life, as he bottled up all emotions inside of him. I guess one day he'll explode." Alphard said, sighing softly.

"Hmm," Hermione pretended to sound thoughtful, but she had to agree with Alphard on this. She herself could not stop wondering about the same thing yesterday. She wondered how Riddle was able to endure this kind of lifestyle. No wonder he became a cold-blooded psychopathic murderer. She was not surprised at all.

Hermione decided that she had heard enough of this, and changed the subject. Alphard, noticing her discomfort complied and went along with her happily.

"So, are you invited to Slughorn's party?" Hermione asked him. At this, Alphard's face broke into a big smile.

"Yes, I was a member since fourth year. Slughorn thought that my family had quite a reputation in the wizarding world. After all, we are all ancient purebloods," Alphard said this with a bored tone. Unlike the Malfoy clan, Hermione noted that he did not bother to boast about his blood status. She was pleased with this.

"I've just been invited to join the Slug Club yesterday," Hermione said, giving Alphard a wink.

"Oh," Alphard said. "Do you have a partner yet, Merope?"

"I don't know yet, I'm still not sure about bringing one though," Hermione said, giving him a mischievous grin.

"Great. As I haven't got a partner yet, would you be so good as to be my guest, my dear Merope?" Alphard asked, extending his hand.

"Well…" Hermione trailed off playfully.

"Well?" Alphard asked her, still grinning.

"If you said so, my dear Alphard," Hermione said, taking his extended hand and squeezing it tightly.

"Ow! That hurts, you know?" Alphard said, gently punching Hermione's arm. Hermione laughed and gave his hand another final squeeze before letting go.

Both of them laughed happily, and started to walk out of the library when the bell rang, signaling lunchtime.

"I'll see you around soon, Merope," Alphard said, when they reached the double doors leading to the Great Hall. He gave her arm a soft squeeze, before heading to the Slytherin table.

"Okay. See you later then," Hermione said, letting go of his arm, and making her way to the Gryfindor table. Minerva and Charles were already seated at their usual spots, waiting for her.

Hermione sat between both of them, and started to pile food onto her plate. She was feeling particularly hungry today, as she had not eaten much during breakfast. She begins to stuff her face into the food, without noticing it.

"Merope, are you starving?" Minerva asked her, looking exasperated. Hermione looked up at the other girl with her mouth full of mash potatoes and chopped beans.

"Yeah," she said, turning red in embarrassment. "I hadn't managed to eat much during breakfast."

"Slow down, dear. You'll choke yourself to death at the rate you're wolfing down your food," Charles said, giving Hermione's shoulder a playful slap. Hermione slapped him back playfully.

The three of them finished their lunch, and walked together to their last class for the day.

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When the lesson finally ended at 3.30, Hermione quickly gathered up her things, and told Minerva that she wanted to go to the library to research some important facts to complete their History of Magic essay. Minerva gave her an admiring look, and smiled at her.

"You're working yourself too hard, Merope. I think you need to release some stress," Minerva suggested. "Why don't you come with Charles and me? We're planning to have a little party in Gryfindor tower now, just for fun."

"Yeah. It's only the second day of the term, girl. Let's get rolling for a while before getting serious, shall we?" Charles cut in.

"Oh, I'll love to join you guys," Hermione said, pretending to sound upset, "But my essay is really calling to me now. I won't be able to have a good night's sleep if I failed to complete it by tonight."

Minerva looked at Hermione again, and shook her head.

"I'm not surprised if you managed to get good grades for the NEWTs, Merope," she said, walking away with Charles.

Charles merely winked at Hermione, and followed Minerva out of the Great Hall.

"Riddle would be pissed," she heard Charles whispered to Minerva as they passed. "Merope is certainly his perfect match."

Hermione stuffed her Arithmancy textbook into her schoolbag, and headed out of the classroom, masking the disgusted look on her face with a small smile. For some reason, she felt angry after hearing what Charles had said. She was certainly not Riddle's perfect match. How could she be? They were both on different sides; she on the light side and he on the dark side.

She walked briskly towards the library. She reasoned that she would have to complete her research quickly, as she still had homework to do. She would be far behind if she continue like this. She just has to check the shelves again today, to make sure that she had not missed out anything yesterday. After all, Dumbledore still had not given her a pass to the restricted section, and Hermione figured that it would be impossible for her to sneak into that area. If anyone discovered her, her Head Girl reputation would be smeared. Hermione wanted to avoid this as best as possible. She had already had enough burdens on her shoulder; coping with young Voldemort, pretending to act normal around her friends, schoolwork, preventing her nightmares from recurring again and etc. She would not want to land herself into more trouble.

Hermione pushed through the double doors of the library, and stepped into the building.

"Back again, my dear?" Madam Perrywinkle looked up from her desk as Hermione entered. She was reading the Daily Prophet, Hermione noted.

"Yes, I've to read up on something," Hermione said, offering the librarian a half smile before heading over to the shelves where various books were arranged.

"Don't keep yourself in here too much, my dear. The weather outside is wonderful, and I daresay a walk down to the Black Lake would be just perfect."

Hermione gave Madam Perrywinkle another smile. "I'll try to finish in here as fast as possible. And then I'll see about it," she said.

Hermione scanned through all the titles in the Potions section quickly. Just as she had expected, she turned up empty-handed. There were no books on McKenna's theory at all.

Feeling slightly disappointed, Hermione decided to research from a different angle. She headed to the section on time travel, and started to pull out various books. She skimmed through all of them thoroughly, but found nothing at all. Most theories about time travel involved a time turner, and there was no mention of the Draught of Destiny.

Hermione was about to give up, when one tiny brown book caught her eyes. It was sandwiched between two dusty large books, which she had already read before, as it still existed during her time. Curiously, Hermione reached up and pulled the book out of the shelf.

The cover was tattered and worn, and the writing on its cover was beginning to fade. Nevertheless, Hermione could still make it out after squinting at it closely.

"The Theory of Time Traveling" it read. Hermione's face started to fall. This was just another ordinary book, she thought. She was just starting to put the book back on its shelf, when the second line of words caught her attention. She frowned, and blinked. She could not believe her luck.

There, written in the same fading ink, below the title was the name of the author, which was none other than Harperlindo McKenna.

Hermione began to get excited. She started to flip through the book. She frowned. The pages were all blank. She tried to flip through the pages again, doing it more slowly this time. The blank pages stared back at her.

Hermione growled in frustration. This was harder than she had expected. She would have to figure out how to make writing appear on the pages. She was sure there was some way around this.

So, Hermione decided to call it a day, and checked out the book. She decided to return to her dormitory for now to complete her homework. If she was fast enough, she could try to figure out how to read McKenna's book after that.

When Hermione stepped into the commonroom after giving the Pink Lady the password, she found that Riddle was no where in sight. Feeling glad about this, Hermione dumped her schoolbag onto the couch with Gryfindor colours, and started to take out her homework.

Two hours later, Hermione had managed to complete all her homework, which was due next week. After checking to make sure that she had not missed anything at all, she smiled satisfactorily and rolled up the scrolls of parchments. She placed them neatly into her bag.

After that, Hermione took out her old Muggle wristwatch, and glanced at the time. She figured that she still have forty-five minutes before dinner. So, she decided to work on McKenna's book.

Feeling excited, Hermione took out the small leather-bound volume from her bag, and started to thumb through the pages again. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out her wand.

"Aparesium!" she tried. Nothing happened. The pages remained blank.

"Revilium!" Still nothing happened.

Hermione tried a few more spells that she knew, but the pages of the books still remained blank.

Next, she tried to dip her quill into her inkwell and write on the book.

"Reveal your secrets."

The writing remained on the page, but nothing happened. Feeling frustrated, Hermione tried a few more phrases, before giving up.

"Oh, why must this be so difficult?" she muttered in frustration, slamming the book shut, and throwing it at the table. In her frustration, Hermione accidentally cut her fingers at the edge of a page of the book. Small trickles of blood started to appear on her finger.

"And now I've got a paper cut," Hermione sniffed, feeling more frustrated than before.

As she tried to clean the small wound using her wand, a small trickle of blood dripped onto the blank page of the book, which was still open. Hermione growled in frustration.

And then, it happened. Hermione could not believe her eyes. The drop of blood remained for a while on the page, and then it disappeared. Feeling curious, Hermione placed her hands on the page, and let a few more trickles of her blood to drip onto the page. Just as before, the blood remained on the page for a few seconds, and then disappeared.

Hermione was beginning to get excited. Was this some kind of journal, she wondered. IT had only work when she presented it with her blood. Hermione shuddered at this realization. She began to panic again. What if this is all related to dark magic? After all, it looked like Tom Riddle's diary, or his first horcrux, back in her time. She should not act in such a rash manner, Hermione scolded herself. She had now stepped into an unknown boundary, and she would have to suffer the consequences now if something terrible really happened.

Hermione began to tremble. She started to pick up the book, but dropped it immediately in surprise. She could not believe her eyes. She blinked, and stared at the book again. Her eyes widened.

Writing had begun to appear on the pages. As she flipped through all the pages of the book, she discovered that it was all filled up with writing.

With a still trembling hand, Hermione turned back to the first page, and read the following:

Dear traveler,

If you've managed to read this, it means that you're the chosen one to complete this task, for only those who had managed to mix the Draught of Destiny and had consumed it would be able to read this splendid volume. As you consumed the potion, its traces would remain in your blood forever, until your designated task is completed. Only you would be able to activate this volume, along with its twin, which would be mentioned shortly below. This volume would not be able to be activated by anybody else, and that person would also be unable to read this volume, if this volume falls into their hands.

As you've already discovered, it was I, Harperlindo McKenna, Potions Master of the 16th century, who had designed the Draught of Destiny, allowing one to travel back in time to their destiny. As you journeyed back through time, my dear traveler, I'm sure that you've discovered that certain things can be turned around, so that a brighter future can be shaped. Therefore, I, Harperlindo McKenna, with this thought in mind, had managed to spend about fifty years of my career researching a way to do this with an alternative way, other than the usual way of traveling, i.e. by using a time turner. Thus, the Draught of Destiny was designed.

As the years passed, I've managed to modify this draught, so that it would be perfect, and do not produce any flaws at all. If used appropriately, this draught would bring its drinker back through time, where it felt that certain things need to be corrected. Mind you, my dear traveler, that this draught was specially designed to negate the usual effects of time traveling, thus there would be no severe consequences if you changed certain things in the timeline. As you journeyed back in time, two alternate dimensions would automatically be created. One dimension would be the place [or simply putting it as the future] that you have left behind. The time would remain frozen, and events would cease to take place. All the people in that dimension would be in a deep sleep, and would not have notice anything peculiar had happened at all.

Meanwhile, the other dimension is the place where you are brought back to, my dear traveler. Any events occurring during your presence in this time period would instead set a new record for the future. Should you manage to correct the flaws during this time period; you would be considered to have completed your task, my dear traveler. It was only then that you would be able to return to your time, as the Pearl of Destiny would be in your possession then. It would help you journey forward in time, back to the first dimension where you belonged. You would not remember anything at all when you return, and it would be as though you had just woke up from a pleasant and long slumber.

The timeline would move on then, and everyone would forgot about what had happened previously, and events would occurred as it should have been, as though the undesirable flaw that you've corrected did not occur at all. As you returned to your dimension, my dear traveler, you would be forgotten as well in the second dimension, where your presence would not be remembered at all by anyone, and you would be treated as though you did not exist at all during that time period. Nevertheless, once the flaw had been corrected, events would play differently from before, just as the flaw had never occurred at all. I assure you that your dreams and destiny would be achieved, my dear traveler, if you have the will to move on and complete the task. The clues of the task that is set for you would appear on the parchment where you find the instructions of brewing the potion. So, I hope that you are willing to complete the task designated for you, my dear traveler.

However, should you choose not to return to the place where you actually belonged after completing the task, or if you failed to complete the task, the consequences would be unknown, my dear traveler. Therefore, I'll ask you to ponder your decision very carefully before setting out to complete your task.

Thus, I leave in your hands my private journal, entitled "Potions and Their Greatest Potential", which is the twin of this volume, where you would be able to find all you need to know about the Draught of Destiny, which I've secretly penned down. If you've managed to find this book, my dear traveler, you'll be able to activate it the same way as you activated "The Theory of Time Travel", for it only recognized the drinker of the Draught of Destiny. Hope it would help you greatly, my dear traveler.

Best of luck to you and hope that you would be successful in achieving your desired destiny.

H.K. McKenna

Hermione's hands were no longer shaking by now. Instead, she was filled with excitement. Finally, she had managed to find something. She had indeed traveled back in time using the Draught of Destiny, and she had been able to activate McKenna's journal.

Now, all she had to do was to figure out the flaw in this time period, and correct it. Then, she would be able to return home. She was glad that McKenna at least had a sense of creating something that would negate the effects of time traveling. She would not to be too careful anymore, Hermione noted. It would not matter much if she let some information from the future slipped out; of course not vital information, Hermione thought. After all, when she returned, she would be forgotten, and everyone would treat the situation as though she had never existed before in this time period.

Hermione furrowed her brow in concentration, and tried to remember what she had read on that torn piece of parchment back in her time.

"May you survive the dark times which is going to come, and may you slip into a world that you could not have imagined," Hermione mouthed silently, remembering some of the phrases written on the piece of parchment. Hermione still wondered what that was all about. The darkest times? Correcting flaws? There must be a flaw in this time period, she gathered, but what was it?

Just as she was turning over possibilities in her mind, she heard a click, and the portrait hole opened. Hastily, she snapped the book shut, and stuffed it into her beaded bag quickly. Hermione managed to stuff her beaded bag into the usual hidden compartment of her schoolbag just in time as Riddle walked into the commonroom, carrying a pile of books under his arms.

He did not seem to notice her, Hermione noted. He was deep in his own thoughts, mumbling to himself softly as he made his way to the other couch opposite her. Hermione got up, stretched, and started to head upstairs. She would have another shower before going down for dinner, she decided. She did not think that she could stand being in the vicinity of the young dark lord just yet.

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The day passed on smoothly for Tom too. He reasoned that he would not let the Head Girl bother him any longer, as he would break her tonight. He instead focused on his classes for the rest of the morning.

History of Magic passed quickly, with the boring Professor Binns mumbling about Warlock Conventions and Goblin Rebellions. Tom jotted all the notes that Binns had written on the board with a bored expression on his face. He had already knew all of this by heart, but nevertheless he figured it was just a way to pass his time and preventing himself from nodding off, like most of the other students. He had to maintain his Head Boy image after all.

He looked around the classroom. Most of the students were dozing off before half of the period has ended. Malfoy and his gang were playing their silly game of quill-throwing. Tom screwed up his face in disgust. The group really had no better things to do. Nevertheless, he did not care about that. As long as they do his bidding for him and remained as his loyal followers, they can do whatever they liked. He reasoned that it would not bring him any detriment after all.

His gaze landed on a particular brunette, which is scribbling frantically across her parchment. Her head was bent so low, that her nose almost touched the parchment. Tom noted that she writes with a beautiful and steady grace, her quill skidding smoothly along the parchment. Her writing was also neat and elegant, Tom noted, although his was more elegant and nicer. Tom could not help feeling stupidly proud about this minor detail. At least, the Head Girl had not managed to beat him in this.

"What a silly thought," he scoffed, shaking himself quickly. He wondered why the girl still had such an effect on him.

She was so immersed in copying that she did not even notice his stare. He notice how beautifully her fingers curled around her quill, holding it in place. A lock of hair had fallen into her eyes, making her look more beautiful than before. Her dimple emitted a warm glow, and Tom felt comfortable staring at her.

"Damn!" he snapped frustrated, after discovering that he had been caught off guard again. He really should stop thinking about her now.

Furiously, Tom jotted down the few last important points listed on the board, and rolled up his parchment. She gathered up all his things, and stuffed it into his worn-out schoolbag.

By the time he finished doing so, the bell rang. Binns gave the class homework, which was due next week, and walked out of the class. Tom slings his bag over his shoulders, and walked out of the class, feeling angrier with him than ever.

He wondered what had gotten into him for the past two days. Ever since Merope Granger had entered his life, he had been thinking strangely, and acting strangely too. His whole persona was out of place.

"This cannot happen any longer," Tom kept telling himself. Thus, he made up his mind that by hook or by crook, the girl was really going to get it once and for all. His future plans would be thwarted, if he does not act quickly now.

He knew that the girl was lying through her teeth about her background, judging by her actions so far. Tom had observed that she turned pale at times when that McGonagall girl or that Potter boy asked her certain things. However, she was fast in covering up her slip ups though. He would not buy her nonsense stories, just as the others. He was not a person to fool around with, and he would force the truth out of her tonight. She would learn about his persona than and see his true colours. Tom could not help feeling please when he pictured the scared expression on her face later.

With this thought in mind, Tom smirked, and headed to the North Tower for Divination.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After his last class for the day ended at 3.30, Tom headed back to the Heads' Dorms. He would work on the small black journal by McKenna that he had found yesterday. He stepped into the cozy commonroom after giving the Pink Lady the password.

He glanced around the room. The Head Girl was not back yet, he noted. He figured that she must have gone to the library again or maybe to Gryfindor Tower, to join her friends. He was slightly pleased with this. He would have the commonroom to himself for now.

Tom started to pull out the small book from his bag. He glanced once more at the blank pages, and set to work. He sloshed various revealing potions that he had secretly brewed himself onto the pages, but still nothing happened. The pages still remain blank.

Next, Tom tried more spells that he had managed to look up in a few more books in the restricted section. Still, none of them work. He tried giving his blood to the book, but the blood just remained on the page, and nothing happened.

After all his attempts turned out to be fruitless, Tom slammed the book onto the table next to the armchair which he was sitting on in frustration, and threw it onto the floor. He glowered at the book. Why it wouldn't work, he wondered. How should he make the writing appear on the book?

Finally, Tom let out a deep sigh, picked up the book and stormed out of the commonroom. He was going to the library again, he decided. He would look for more books in the restricted section. Tom would not back down until the last resort had been used on the book. He loved challenges, and McKenna's book was one piece of mystery that he was going to solve, aside from Merope Granger.

The thought about the Head Girl made his temper flare up again. Tom quickly pushed her out of his mind, and roughed shoved the portrait of the Pink Lady side. The portrait looked taken aback, and gave him a disapproving look.

"Mind your ways, boy," the Pink Lady sniffed in a cold voice. Tom merely gave her another scowl, before storming off in the direction of the library.

An hour later, Tom walked out of the library, levitating several books along with him in the air. He loved to use magic to its fullest potential. He would not use the Muggle way of caring all the books under his arms. In Tom's opinion, Muggles are stupid, just as his own filthy Muggle good-for-nothing aristocrat father. He smirked at the memory of his father, the frightened and surprised look he gave Tom the night he fall to his death, in Tom's own hands.

Tom never regretted his actions last summer. He had killed both his grandparents and his own father at the Riddle mansion in Little Hangleton and had framed Morphin Gaunt, his uncle for the murders by planting a false memory into his mind. In Tom's opinion, his father and grandparents deserved to die, as they had abandoned him. His useless fool of a mother was also unnerving. Had she not given Tom Riddle SR the love potion, Tom would not have to go through so much in his life? In fact, he may not even be born into this world.

He remembered the look on his father's face before falling to the ground. The man was frightened and his eyes looked pleadingly at Tom. Tom was still boiling with anger at that time. Without remorse, he raised his wand, and flicked it swiftly. The jet of green light hit his father squarely on the chest, and the man collapsed, with his eyes rolled back into his head and his mouth wide open. It was then that he had created his second horcrux.

Tom fingered the ring, which he always kept in his pocket. The black stone felt cold to his touch, and he found that he liked the smooth carvings of it. In this ring was a fragment of his soul. Tom hoped that he would be able to make more horcruxes, after graduating from Hogwarts. The thought of being immortal was simply tempting, and he could not resist it. He planned to split his soul into seven parts.

"Soon, Lord Voldemort would rise to power, and the wizarding world would be dominated by him," he laughed softly to himself, as he continued down the corridor. He would be immortal, and may rule the whole world as long as he desired. No one, not even the old coot Dumbledore, could stop him. Tom Marvolo Riddle always gets what he wanted without much effort, owing to his brains and cunning strategies.

However, little did Tom Marvolo Riddle know that this was having a negative effect on him, and he would be suffering the consequences of splitting up his soul soon enough.

Tom continued to walk back to his dormitory, still levitating the books along with him. Suddenly, he felt his right hand twitched slightly. He tightened his grip on his wand, but the twitching continued. His fingers began to tremble, and his whole arm went numb. Tom stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening in shock.

Pain shot through his arm, and his grip on his wand loosened. He staggered uncontrollably for a while, before collapsing in pain onto the cold stone floor. His wand fall out of his grasp, and the books which he was levitating fell onto the floor with noisy thuds. Perspiration was beginning to form on his forehead.

His face contorted into a mask of pain, and he clutched his chest. His whole body was burning, as though it was on fire. Tom managed to gulp a few breaths, as the tightness around his chest increased. He bit down on his lower lip, and tried to take a deep breath again. His breathing became shallow and ragged. He tried to stand up, but doubled over once more as another searing pain shot through his muscles.

Tom closed his eyes, and took a few more deep breaths. He started to massage his arms. By now, the tightness in his chest had decreased, and his breathing was beginning to return to normal. He continued to massage his arm. His fingers were stiff and numb. He could not feel anything at all.

Finally, after a few more minutes of massaging, He reached out and touched his arm again. The numbness and pain had ceased, and his strength was returning. He tried to flex his fingers and arm, trying to find out whether he can still feel anything. He was glad to know that his senses had returned and he was able to move his hands normally now.

He glanced around the corridor nervously, hoping that no one had noticed him. Luckily, the corridor was deserted, save for a few students, who were making their way to the library in the opposite direction, and seemed not to have noticed him at all.

Hastily, Tom straightened up, and picked up his wand, which had rolled a few feet away from him when he loose control just now. He flexed his fingers once again, and found that blood was beginning to flow normally through his veins again, and colour was returning to his face, which had gone quite pale just now. With a lazy flick of his wand, the books started to hover above him again, and he began to levitate them to the Heads' Dorms.

As he walked, Tom could not help feeling a bit worry. What had happened to him just now, he wondered. He had never gone through anything like that throughout his whole life. He should check it out later, he decided. Had the splitting of his soul caused this? Tom could not help wondering about this possibility. After all, he had not bother to find out the consequences of creating horcruxes, as he was too excited to try it out. If this was indeed what had caused his seizure just now, he would have found a way to stop the problem. He could not let this weakness stop his plans. He was Lord Voldemort after all.

He reached his dormitory, and gave the Pink Lady the password. She was still offended with him, and swung aside without offering him her usual dazzling smile. Tom summoned the books into his arms with another flick of his wand, and carried them into the commonroom.

Merope Granger was sitting on the couch on the right, Tom noted. She was hastily stuffing something into her schoolbag. Tom raised an eyebrow at her behaviour. He wondered what she was trying to hide from him.

The girl then abruptly gathered up her things, and started to walk away in the direction of the staircase leading to their bedroom. Tom just stared at her.

He felt lethargic for all of a sudden again, and sank down onto the couch opposite the one Merope Granger had just vacated. He closed his eyes for a moment, and tried to relax his mind. He could not explain what he was feeling now. There was something not right with his body, he felt strange and out of place.

Tom massaged his temples thoughtfully. He let out a sigh in frustration. He had already had enough problems on his mind; figuring out Merope Granger, working out how to activate McKenna's diary and now this had happened to him. He would have to research more at the library, or go to the hospital wing and ask Madam McCarthy about it. She was the most knowledgeable healer that he had ever met, he noted. In fact, they often share things together. He had helped her to adjust certain potions, so that it would be more effective. They had just figured out a new way of brewing the dreamless sleep potion last year, and it was yet to be tested. He wondered whether the matron had tested it yet. It was he, after all, who had suggested the new recipe. He would have to remember to pay her a visit later, Tom decided.

Tiredness overtook him suddenly, and Tom succumbed to it. He lay down on the couch, and closed his eyes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione felt fresh after her shower. The cold water had raised her spirits, and made her more energetic. Hermione plopped down onto her bed, toweling her hair dry. She took out McKenna's book from her bag, drew the curtains tightly shut around her bed just in case the young dark lord happened to enter the room, and warded her bed. Then, she settled herself more comfortably on the bed, and started to read the book.

It was a very interesting book. Hermione had learned that McKenna had used most of his career writing this book, as he had mentioned earlier. The explanations were logical and so detailed that Hermione was intrigued with them. McKenna had indeed a very broad view about time travel, and the reasons he used to support his belief were simply amazing.

According to McKenna, time can be altered according to one's own desire and destiny. It depended on the witch or wizard themselves, i.e. whether they are willing to accept this theory. Furthermore, McKenna stated in his opinion that everything can possibly be achieved with time, and the usual rules of time travel should be relaxed so as not to discourage witches and wizards from achieving their most desirable destiny. Based on this theory, McKenna had figured out a way to allow one to travel through time, which would negate as best as possible the usual flaws of time travel. Thus, the Draught of Destiny was created by him in early 1650s.

The book was so interesting that Hermione read on and on, until she finally finished reading it without knowing it. She was slightly surprised when her hand turned the last page of the book. She put down the book, and takes a deep breath.

"Oh, this is such an interesting piece of work," Hermione said to herself. She would find the other book later, she gathered. She had no idea where it was at this moment. She would have to figure it out soon. Nevertheless, Hermione decided that this had been a very progressive day after all. She had managed to learn and discover so much.

She locked the book away safely in her trunk before heading out of the room for dinner. She was already late, she noticed. Minerva and Charles would certainly be worried about her, as she had promised to meet them for an early dinner. Hermione started to think of an acceptable excuse to explain her later as she closed the door quietly behind her. She tiptoed down the stairs, as she did not want to make too much noise, just in case Riddle was still in the commonroom. She had no intention to irritate him further, after their first confrontation that morning. Who knows whether he would get mad at her and decided to curse her?

Hermione reached the last step, and continued to walk softly across the commonroom. Riddle was sprawled on the couch again, fast asleep. The books he was carrying under his arms are scattered about on the floor. Hermione wondered whether he always fall asleep while he was reading. She had caught him for the second time already.

She was just about to turn away, when a small black leather-bound book caught her eye. She squinted at it more closely, and cupped her hands to her mouth to prevent a surprised scream from escaping from it.

She reached down quietly, trying to make the least noise as possible, and picked up the book. "Potions and Their Greatest Potential by Harperlindo McKenna", she ran her fingers across the smooth letters printed on the front cover of the book. She had found the book at last.

No wonder she had trouble locating it earlier. That idiot psycho had gotten it in his possession all along. She dared a glare at the sleeping young Voldemort. She could not help noticing that his face looked slightly paler, and some colour had drained from it. She wondered whether he was not feeling well, but quickly waved that thought away. It was probably the trick of the light, she convinced herself. After all, he was Lord Voldemort, and she did not even care whether he was sick or not. His skin was already as pale as a waxed doll now, Hermione noted, and she would not be surprised if it grows a few shades paler.

Not wanting Riddle to be suspicious, Hermione again duplicated the book, but this time, she left the duplicated copy to Riddle, and took the original one. Luckily for her, Riddle remained asleep throughout the who process. She quickly scanned through the book. As she had expected, the pages were blank. Riddle, it seemed, had not been able to activate the book yet.

"Ah, try as hard as you may, Mr. Riddle," Hermione chuckled inwardly, "You'll never be able to gain access to this book."

She tiptoed back upstairs, and locked the book safely away in her trunk. Then, she started to make her way downstairs again.

Quietly, she pushed open the portrait hole, and stepped out into the corridor. Riddle was still sleeping soundly when she left. She was quite glad about this. He had not noticed what she had just done. However, Hermione still worried that he would find out sooner or later. So, she would have to act fast. She would finish McKenna's journal as fast as possible, and return the copy to riddle before the fake one disappeared. She doubted he would be able to read it though, as only those who had consumed the Draught of Destiny would be able to do so, as mentioned by McKenna at the end of "The Theory of Time Travel", which Hermione had read just now.

Hermione made her way through the corridors to the Great Hall. Most of the students had already left when she arrived. Minerva and Charles were still at the Gryfindor, glancing at the door with worry looks on their faces. Hermione could see that Alphard had joined them at the table. She made her way towards them, waving.

Minerva immediately jumped out from her seat, and ran towards Hermione. "Oh, Merope! Finally you're here. We're quite worried about you, you know."

Hermione gave Minerva a big smile, and the other girl gave her a tight hug. Both of them started to walk towards the Gryfindor table, where Alphard and Charles still sat. Both boys gave Hermione a relieved smile when they arrived.

"What happened, Merope?" Alphard asked her, looking at Hermione questioningly.

"Oh, I'm sorry for making all of you worried," Hermione started too said. "I was too tired, and decided to take a nap. When I woke up, it was already this late. I'm really sorry."

All three of her friends nodded in comprehension. Hermione was glad that they had believed her story. She sat down, and started to pile food onto her plate.

The four of them chatted merrily as Hermione ate, laughing occasionally at some silly jokes cracked by one of them.

After Hermione finished her dinner, she excused herself, and told the others that she need to go back to her dormitory to complete her homework. Alphard offered to walk her back there, but Hermione declined politely.

"I just wanted some moment alone, Alphard. I need to think and clear my thoughts sometimes, you know. I hope you understand," Hermione said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze.

"Yes, I understand, Merope. Fine then. I'll see you on tomorrow." He took her hand in his, and gave it a light squeeze.

Hermione bid the three of them goodnight, and made her way back to her dormitory. She planned to finish McKenna's book tonight, as she had already completed her homework. She could not wait to discover more about the Draught of Destiny.

The Pink Lady gave Hermione another dazzling smile as she approached the dormitory. Hermione glanced at the portrait. She had not given it her fullest attention for the past two days. The Pink Lady was stunningly pretty, Hermione noted. Her black hair hung down her back, and framed her beautiful heart-shaped face. Her eyes were a soft shade of brown, and her lips curved up into a smile. She was dress from head to toe in pink. Her pink velvet gown matched her complexion well, and softens her features further. Her left hand was firmly holding her wand, which was also pink in colour, Hermione noted fondly. Her right hand grasped a large pink pearl, the size of a crystal ball, which emitted a soft and warm glow. Hermione stood there for a while, admiring the Pink Lady's magnificent features.

"Nice isn't it, my dear?" the Pink Lady asked Hermione, giving her a small smile.

"Indeed, you're so wonderful to look at, my lady," Hermione said, returning the Pink Lady's smile.

The Pink Lady gave her another warm smile. Then, she said something which made Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Time is so wonderful, my dear girl. Treasure it well, and use it to its fullest potential. Every flaw can be corrected, if you know the right way to do it. Desire and will power would carry you forward to your destiny."

Hermione stood transfixed at the spot. What was that all about? The words were so familiar. She wondered where she had read it before.

She sifted through her thoughts, and finally it hit her. Her eyes widened, and she stared into the dark brown eyes of the portrait.

She had read that particular paragraph in "The Theory of Time Travel" just now. The words were exactly the same as what the Pink Lady had said just now.

The Pink Lady gave her a wink, as Hermione continued to stare open-mouthed at her.

"I'm sorry, my lady. I'm afraid this may sound too rude, but were you somehow related to Harperlindo McKenna?" Hermione said finally, after managing to control her racing heart. She was beginning to get excited.

"What are you talking about, my dear?" the Pink Lady asked, and Hermione could tell that she was hiding something from her. She glanced once more at the Pink Lady. The large pink pearl caught her attention. If the Pink Lady was indeed related to McKenna, would the pearl in her hand be the Pearl of Destiny, which would help her to get back?

The Pink Lady just looked at her. Hermione decided to push her luck further.

"What you said just now…"

"Oh, forgive me, my dear. Sometimes I caught myself off guard, and babbled all kinds of nonsense." Hermione could sense that this was not the truth. She would push the Pink Lady further, she decided.

"But…"

"My dear, if you'll forgive me, I Need to pay a visit to the Fat Lady at Gryfindor Toward soon. Do you want to go in now?"

"My lady…"

"Oh, my dear girl, I don't have all day," the Pink Lady was starting to get offended. She started to move away.

"Wait!" Hermione said, "Okay, okay. I'm going in."

"Password?" the Pink Lady said in a clipped tone. Hermione noted that she was still angry after the confrontation.

"Caput Draconis."

The portrait swung aside quickly, and Hermione stepped into the commonroom, excitement still bubbling in the pit of her stomach. She would try to confront the Pink Lady again on tomorrow, Hermione decided. She hoped that she would be able to get more information from her.

Riddle was awake now, Hermione noticed. He was scribbling something on a roll of parchment, and did not seem to notice her.

Curiosity overtook her, and she took a few steps closer to where he was sitting. He was still scribbling quickly, his quill moving with the same beautiful grace along the parchment. He did not even look up as she approached him.

Hermione scanned the parchment quickly. Anger was beginning to well up in her. Riddle, it seemed, had started to prepare the patrolling schedules for the prefects. The nerve of him! He had not even bothered to consult her on this. He had taken the liberty to do everything alone. Hermione was furious at this. She was his other counter part, and she had the right to plan out the schedule as much as he did. Dippet had instructed them to work together, and Riddle was sidestepping this instruction already.

Hermione cleared her throat loudly to announce her presence. Riddle merely looked up for a second, and then bent down once more to pen another name in a column on the right of the parchment.

Hermione cleared her throat again, more loudly this time. Riddle just continued to pen down names, and ignored her altogether. Hermione was beginning to lose her patience.

"Excuse me, Mr. Riddle?" she forced out, trying as best as she could to control her anger.

Riddle gave her another look, but did not say anything at all.

"As Head Girl, I think I have as much right as you do in preparing this," Hermione continued, gesturing to the parchment on the table. "I thought Headmaster Dippet had asked us to work it out together. Which part of the word together did you not understand, Mr. Riddle?"

Riddle's eyes flashed red, and Hermione knew that she had managed to anger him, but she did not care. He put down his quill, and glared at her.

"Granger, since you so rudely put it," he started to say, in the same cold and emotionless baritone, "I'm telling you right now that I hate team work. I'll be doing all the work, and you'll just have to go along with it. I don't care whether you liked or not, as this are my style of doing things. It would be quicker and convenient this way. If Dippet asked about it, I'll be sure to mention that both of us had done it. Am I clear on this?"

Hermione could not believe her ears. Riddle was really pissing her off. How someone could stand him for so long, she wondered.

"Of course, he is Lord Voldemort, and those who disobeyed him would suffer the consequences later," Hermione scoffed inwardly. She would not let Tom Marvolo Riddle had his way so easily. Hermione reasoned that she would not back down without a fight. If Riddle decided to curse her, he can do as he liked. She really did not give a damn about it. After all, she would be back in her own time period soon, after completing the task that McKenna's draught had set out for her.

She pulled herself up to her full height, and looked straight into Riddle's midnight blue eyes. "Oh? In that case, I'm sorry to inform you that I'm not happy with the arrangements, Mr. Riddle. As I'm your other counter part, I've the same rights as you do in planning things for the school, and I don't care whether you liked it or not. We're going to work this out together, do you understand?"

Hermione could see that Riddle was also boiling with anger. Both his hands had clenched into fists, and he was trying as best as he could to control his magic. She could sense his magic crackling around him dangerously, waiting to be let out at any moment. The dark aura surrounding him sent Goosebumps down her spine. She had experienced this feeling before, during the final battle, and during the time at the Ministry, where Voldemort had tried to kill Harry. She was lucky that Dumbledore had managed to arrive just in time. If not, all of them would be dead in their graves before they could say "Slytherin". She suppressed a snort at this thought.

Suddenly, without warning, Riddle lashed out at her. Taken by surprise, Hermione was not prepared for it. She tried to pull out her wand, but he grabbed both of her hands so tightly that her knees begin to buckle. He sprang up from his seat, grabbed her by the neck with his other arm, and pinned her against the nearest wall. Hermione tried to scream, but nothing came out of her mouth.

"Granger," his voice sounded dangerously from above her. He was towering over her, one arm still pinning her tightly against the wall, while the other was fumbling in his pocket for his wand.

Hermione closed her eyes. She knew what would come next, and she was prepared for it. He would either kill her or curse her, she decided. She would succumb to it. The war had made her stronger. She would not let Riddle scared her so easily.

However, the other part of her was mocking herself for being so stupid. Why must she pick a fight with Riddle? Couldn't she just let him get his way? It would be much more easier this way.

"Oh, shut up," Hermione scolded herself silently. "You've made this move, and now you should suffer the consequences."

Hermione could not help feeling a bit frightened. After all, she had not deal with Lord Voldemort before. Belatrix Lestrange was worse enough. That madwoman was merciless, and would do anything she could to please her master. Hermione shuddered at the memory of being tortured at Malfoy Manor. She had not been able to shake off the memory, and it still haunted her in her dreams.

Riddle had managed to pull his wand out of his pocket. He waved it around the room in a complicated pattern. Hermione noticed that he did this non-verbally. He was no doubt putting wards around the room, to alert him when someone happened to be near their dormitory. Hermione was certain he was going to torture her now.

Riddle then pointed his wand at Hermione. "Silencio!" he mouthed silently and Hermione's mouth clamped shut on its own accord.

At least it would be better this way, Hermione reasoned. He would not hear her screams, and she would not let him have the pleasure of watching she screams. For a moment, Hermione considered putting up a fight, but thought better about it. She would get this over with once and for all.

"Granger, you would be wise to not cross paths with me," Riddle said, closing the gap between them. His hot breath tickled her neck, and sent shudders through her whole body. He traced her neckline with his wand. Then, he jabbed the tip of his wand hard on her neck. "Do not question my authority, Granger. I would only tell you this once. You don't want me to be your enemy, do you?" His wand moved down a few more inches down her neckline.

"Do you understand?" he asked her. Hermione looked at him with frightened eyes. Nevertheless, she decided that she would not give in so easily to his commands. She was not one of his precious Death Eaters, after all.

"Answer me, Granger!" his voice was raising dangerously. "Do you understand?"

Hermione remained silent, the stubbornness in her preventing her from nodding her head.

"Well, if you're so stubborn, girl, then you leaves me with no choice," Riddle said, his voice laced with malice. "I'll teach you once and for all what is it like to disobey an order. Let's see how well you can stand this, shall we?"

Riddle took a few steps back, and released her. Hermione's body was still trembling now. She tried to move, but her stubborn legs refused to do so.

"Crucio!"

The nightmare began. Hermione felt that she was reliving her past again. Pain seared through her whole body. He collapsed onto the commonroom floor, and her body started to twitch. All she could feel was pain, more pain, and burning. This was much worse than what Belatrix Lestrange had done. The curse was more powerful and stronger. She felt that a thousand knives are stabbing into her whole body.

She closed her eyes. She tried to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth, as she had been silenced. Tears were pouring out of her eyes, as she tried to control the pain. She bit down hard on her lower lip, and tasted blood.

She could not take it any longer. She hoped that that psycho would lift off the curse soon, or kill her.

Finally, Riddle flicked his wand and lifted the curse off. Although it was only for a few seconds, Hermione could feel as though as she had been tortured continuously for the past twenty-four hours.

Riddle laughed in the same high-pitched cold laugh. Hermione shuddered when she heard it. He was Lord Voldemort now, and not the handsome and nice Tom Marvolo Riddle who once charmed all the professors and had everyone wrapped around his fingers. He was a dangerous murderer now.

"Now, let's see how you're taking this, shall we?" Riddle said, turning back to her. "Do you understand my command now, Granger?"

Hermione was too weak to move. So, she just lay there, motionless. Riddle was growing impatient, and kicked her hard in the ribs. Pain seared through her body again, and Hermione closed her eyes tightly, ignoring the tears which were streaming down her cheeks.

"Answer me!"

She tried to lift her head, but found that she had no strength to do so.

"Crucio!"

The nightmare began again. This time, it was worse than before. Riddle was merciless. Hermione heard him laughing in that same higbh-pitched manner as he tortured her. She opened her eyes, and saw that his eyes were gleaming with glee as he watched her twitch and thrash about on the floor.

Her head was beginning to pound furiously, and her whole body was becoming numb from the pain. Her mind was beginning to grow foggy. She wondered whether she would be tortured to insanity before tonight had ended.

Finally, Riddle lifted the curse, and crouched down beside her. With another flick of his wand, he lifted the silencing charm. Hermione felt that her mouth was dry, and her throat was burning.

"Answer me right now, girl!" Riddle's voice boomed furiously. His face was still blank without any emotion, and the glint of red in his midnight blue eyes had disappeared now. "Were my instructions clear enough?"

Hermione nodded weakly, and started to sob. The pain was really unbearable. Riddle stood up, and started to walk away, after getting the answer he wished to hear out of her.

Abruptly, he turned again, and looked down at her again.

"Now, I'll finish up the patrolling schedule, and you would just have to follow it. I'll plan the Halloween Ball as well. From now on, you'll obey me, and do as I said. And, remember not to question my authorities. Am I clear?"

Hermione nodded again. Riddle smirked satisfactorily.

"And if you mentioned a word about tonight's happenings to anyone, you'll suffer the consequences later. I assure you that it would be much more worse than what you've endured tonight. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded again. Riddle turned away, gathered up the schedule that he had left on the table, and started to make his way out of the commonroom. She could hear his footsteps disappearing down the corridor as the portrait hole closed silently behind him.

Hermione rolled onto her back. Her body was still aching after enduring two rounds of the cruciatous curse from that psycho. She continued to cry silently. Blood was still trickling down her face, where her had dug her nails into her skin without knowing it. Her lips were swollen and bleeding. She wiped away the blood and tears on her face and cheeks using the sleeve of her robes.

Silent tears begin to trickle down her cheeks again. She remembered her friends and her family who were all lost in the last battle. Her parents were dead, Fred Weasley was dead, Lupin and Thonks were dead and the list just goes on and on.

After resting on the floor to regain her strength, Hermione tried to move, but her muscles were too cramped. She tried again, but only managed to crawl a few inches away from where he previously laid. She tried again slowly. Finally, after a few more weak attempts, Hermione managed to crawl her way to the nearest couch.

With all the strength left in her, she lounged herself onto the couch, and lay down. Her body was still aching badly. She would not possess the strength to climb up the staircase to the room, and would have to sleep here for the rest of the night.

Hermione knew very well that the effects of the curse would last for a few days. She would have to down a pain relief potion in the morning, before going to classes. In fact, she wondered whether she would be able to make it to her classes tomorrow. She was feeling very feverish right now.

She took out her wand from her pocket, and cleaned her wounds. She felt slightly better, as the bloodstains disappeared and her bleeding lips subsided slightly. She would have to go to the hospital wing tomorrow for some ointment to heal it further.

She put her wand back into her pocket, and places her right hand on it. She would not let Riddle attack her again, if he tried to do so later when he come in later. Hermione took a few more deep breaths. Her breathing was returning to normal now.

She made herself more comfortable on the couch and closed her eyes. She should get some sleep now, before the next day begins.

Her muscles were still painful, and the pain grew worse when she moved. She cried out at intervals, when the pain was unbearable. There is no way she was going to sleep in this condition.

She cursed Riddle silently under her breath. All her plans would be delayed now. She would not be able to read McKenna's journal, as she had planned, and this would further made her return slower. She still had not figured out the task that the Draught of Destiny had set out for her yet. She was beginning to get irritated. This is all Riddle's fault, Hermione decided. Hermione was sure that this would not be her first torture. Riddle would torture her further, when he suspected that she was lying about her entire background. She would have to act fast before this could happen. She was not prepared for another round of the cruciatous under the thirteen-and-a-half inches yew wand of his.

Maybe she could kill Riddle while she was still here. After all, she would return to her time period soon, and she could kill two birds with one stone by completing the task and vanquishing the dark lord once and for all. The wizarding world would not have to suffer so many losses, and Harry would not have to shoulder a great burden on his shoulders. All three of them can live happily ever after with the others, and establish their own families. She would get to spent more time with her parents, and Hogwarts would continue to shine under Dumbledore's governance if he still survived. This would definitely be great, Hermione thought. The final battle would not take place at all, and innocent lives would not be lost.

A small smile spread across her face. If only she managed to correct this flaw in the timeline, all would be well.

Suddenly, realization begins to dawn on Hermione.

"Of course. How could I be so stupid?" she muttered to herself. Although pain was still evident in her body, she could not help feeling excited and happy. Another broad smile spread across her face.

She finally knew what her task was. She had been sent back to this time period for a reason, and now she knew what the reason was. Everything fitted together neatly. She could not believe that it was she, and not Harry, that has to complete the task.

For the second time in two days, Hermione Jean Granger felt relief washing over her. She would have to complete her task soon, and plans were beginning to form in her head.

She would have to vanquish the dark lord before he could rise to power. This was the task McKenna was talking about. She was certain and confident that she would be able to accomplish this task. She would have to do this, for Harry, for Ron, for her parents and for the Greater Good. Hermione shuddered once more at the last thought.

The Greater Good.

Everything she was set out to do would have to revolve around those three words.

With these thoughts in mind, Hermione finally drifted off into a troubled sleep.

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Tom walked down the corridors, satisfied. He had managed to break the girl at last. He could not help feeling pleased as he saw the frightened expression on her face when he tortured her just now. Now, she would be wrapped around his fingers, just like the others. She would not speak to him in that same rude manner that she had used just now.

He had woke up after falling asleep on the couch some time later, and decided that he had no appetite for dinner. So, he took out a piece of parchment and started to plan the prefects' patrolling schedule. He would do all the work himself, he decided. Merope Granger would not be involved in this, and she would do as he said.

Tom noted that she was not in the commonroom. Perhaps she is still upstairs, or she had gone out to dinner. He decided to deal with her later.

He was just finishing the schedule when she entered the commonroom. At first, she did not notice him, as she was deep in thought. Her brows were furrowed together in concentration, and she was frowning while muttering to herself. Then, as she passed the place where he was sitting, she looked up and noticed him. She took one look at him, and then it started.

The girl started to taunt him, accusing him of being selfish, Tom gathered. She continued to rant on, and Tom's anger was boiling. He tried his best to control his magic, before it lashed out uncontrollably.

As she continued her rant, Tom was beginning to get more frustrated. Finally, he told her off. He told her that she was to listen to him, and he would be doing all the work.

To his annoyance, the girl countered his propositions stubbornly. He was taken by surprise for a moment. No one had dared to argue with him in his whole life. He always has an effect on everyone he conversed with. They would always fear him and comply to his wishes.

Finally, Tom decided that he had had enough. He lashed out at the girl. She would witness his true colour now. She would know better not to disobey him next time. He was going to break her now.

He pressed her against the wall, and fumbled in his pockets for his wand. He warded the whole room, just in case someone passed by the area, and put a silencing spell on the girl. Her mouth immediately clamped shut. Nevertheless, she stared straight ahead of her, as though he had expected what would come next.

Tom started to torture the girl, after she refused to give in to his commands. How someone could be so unnerving, he wondered. He had taunted her, jabbed his wand threateningly against her neck, but still she refused to budge.

After a round of the cruciatous, the girl was weak. Tom could sense that she was becoming weaker and weaker, as every second passed. Her body continued to twitch uncontrollably on its own accord, and she tried to scream. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and her lips were bleeding where she had bitten down on them to let out her pain.

He lifted the curse, but the girl still did not budge. She was determined to maintain her stance, it seemed.

Tom was frustrated. He tortured her for the second time. This time, he let her suffer for a bit more longer than before. Finally, the girl breaks.

She nodded at his every word after he lifted the curse. He was pleased with this. She had finally fallen into his hands at last. He would be the one in full command now.

Tom left her sobbing on the floor, and walked out of the commonroom, after laughing satisfactorily. Now, he was pacing the corridors, pondering his next move.

He would find out about her background next, he decided. If the girl refused to tell him anything or lied to him, he would forced the truth out of her one way or the other. He reasoned that he had been too lenient and soft towards the girl for the past two days. He would not tolerate her anymore now.

After pacing the corridor for another hour, he decided to return to the commonroom. The girl would be asleep by now, and he would not have to hear her pathetic sobs and watch her tears pour out of her eyes. He hated the sound of crying, and could not stand watching anyone cry. He hated this kind of weakness in anybody. He had never cried before in his entire life, and he planned not to do so. Tom Marvolo Riddle was one to admit his own weakness, although he had one.

He gave the Pink Lady the password, and stepped into the commonroom. He closed the portrait hole behind him quietly, and glanced around the room.

The girl now lay fast asleep on the couch near the fireplace. He watched her for a moment. Her lips were still bleeding, but the tears on her cheeks were gone. He noticed that she had also unconsciously scratched herself when she dug her nails into her skin to control the pain just now.

Tom continued to stare at her. She looked so peaceful when she was asleep. He watched the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. He stepped closer, and looked down at her sleeping form. Her body would be aching badly, Tom noted. She may not be able to attend classes on tomorrow, but Tom decided that was not his problem and he did not care at all.

He could not help noticing once again how beautiful she was. He wondered how she would feel under his arms. Abruptly, realizing what he was thinking again, he turned away, and started to climb up the stairs to their room. He closed the door quietly behind him, and decided that it was time to go to bed.

He would have another long day ahead of him tomorrow.

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** There you go, Chapter 9 is done! Hope all of you enjoy reading this chapter.

** Next chapter will be up soon! Don't leave out the Pink Lady, as she would play a more significant role in the story in the coming chapters! That's why I created her in the first place!

** Tom's condition would also be explained as the chapters come along. Just is patient for now, okay?

^^ Hermione Hean Fui ^^


	10. Chapter 10 UNFORGIVABLE CURSES

A/N: Terrible day! The haze around here is getting worse. So, could not go anywhere, as it made me so uncomfortable. Oh my God, I couldn't breathe properly here! The air is so terrible and foggy, and I feel as though I'm trapped in a swirl of mist. Hope the haze would clear out soon, before I really get mad. Feeling frustrated now, but I'll manage to control my temper anyway. Don't worry; I wouldn't be mad like Tom, lol.

So, I think that it is better to sit at home, and log in to to post a new chapter of my story. Haha, lol. So, there you go, the new chapter is up! Hope all of you enjoy reading it, and do continue to review. Special thanks to those who reviewed for the last chapters.

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Chapter 10: Unforgivable Curses

Sunlight was streaming through the window in the Heads' commonroom when Hermione opened her eyes. Her body was stiff and numb, as a result of sleeping on the couch without moving a muscle. She had fallen asleep after figuring out what her task was. Plans were beginning to form in her head, and in the midst of deciding which one would work best, she had drifted off to sleep.

The pain in her muscles was still unbearable, and Hermione whimpered silently as she tried to push herself into a sitting position. Her swollen lips had subsided after she had healed it yesterday, and some dry blood was still visible on them. The scratches on her skin had healed, and the pain in her ribs where that psycho had kicked her yesterday was also ceasing.

She stretched out her hands, and flexed her fingers. There were still numb and hurting. She closed her eyes, and gulped in a few breaths of air before opening them again. With a great effort, she finally managed to sit up, and leaned on the couch. She looked around the commonroom. The fireplace was cold and dry, and the crackling fire had died down. Hermione shivered slightly as the cold autumn wind blew in through the window and touched her skin. She hugged herself tightly, and pulled out her wand from her pocket. She casted a warming charm on herself. She had modified the charm herself, so that the effects were stronger and it would last for a longer time.

Hermione felt much better as her body felt warm and comfortable again after a few more minutes. She figured that she would be late for her classes if she does not get out of her dormitory by now.

Trying not to hurt herself too much, Hermione gripped the back of the couch for support, and tried to push herself off the couch. After a few attempts of trying, she finally managed to get up from the couch. Her legs were wobbling slightly as she started to take a few steps forward. She grabbed onto other furniture's in the room for support as she wobbled along until she reached the staircase leading up to the room. She gripped the banister tightly, and started to climb the staircase. By the time she reached the top landing, she was sweating and panting all over. She leaned against the banister, and rested her chin on her elbows for a moment. After regaining some of her strength, she straightened up, and walked towards the door of the room. She hoped that Riddle was already on his way, as she did not wish to endure another round of torturing from him. She did not think she could stand it for another time for now.

Taking a deep breath, she reached for the doorknob and turned it silently. She pushed the door open and stepped into the room. Luck was not on her side again, it seemed. Riddle was still in the room, sleeping in his bed. He was lying on his back, and she could just make out his mass of black hair on the pillow, below the folds of the green and silver quilt, which he had pulled up to his head. Was it that cold, she wondered? She had not seen anyone sleep like that before. At least they have a sense of putting on a jumper or something else if it was too cold. She stared at the sleeping dark lord in disgust, and shook her head before turning away slowly. Hermione wondered whether he always sleep that late into the morning. However, she was shocked to find that it was only a quarter after six when she glanced at her wristwatch, which she had put on before going out for dinner yesterday. How it could be so bright outside, she wondered, when it was still so early in the morning.

"Funny thing, weather," she mumbled to herself. She tiptoed towards her bed, and started to get ready for the day. She smoothed out a new pair of uniform on her bed, and rummaged in her trunk for the bottle of pain relief potion that she had always carried with her in her beaded bag. She always carries various healing potions around with her, since she, Harry and Ron had started their hunt for Voldemort's horcruxes. One never knows when these potions would become handy. At least her presumptions were quite true, as she had managed to cure Ron with one of the potions after he got himself splinched as a result of the apparition from the Ministry of Magic. They had gone there to obtain Slytherin's locket from that good-for-nothing old toad, Delores Umbridge. Hermione suppressed a snort from escaping her throat when she thought about Umbridge's silly mistakes back in her fifth year. That toad was definitely pissing everyone off, and she had finally learned her lesson in the Forbidden Forest at the end of the year. It was Hermione herself who had fooled that woman after all, and she could not help feeling secretly proud about it.

Hermione uncapped the bottle which held the potion, and tipped the entire contents into her mouth. She figured that she would have to down the whole bottle, so that the effects of the curse would wear off more quickly. She did not wish to be absent for classes. She needed to prepare for her NEWTs, and she always put her education at the top of her priority list. Furthermore, she could not let Minerva and the others notice that something was wrong with her. They would be suspicious if they saw that she was suffering in pain, or did not turn up for classes, and she did not wish to tell them what had happened, after that psycho had warned her. No, Hermione Jean Granger was definitely not going to risk this chance. She would have to figure out her next move quickly, and complete her task. If all was well, she would be back in her own time before Christmas.

She banished the empty bottle with a single flick of her wand, and sat down on the bed to wait for the potion to take effect.

She closed her eyes, and let her thoughts take their tow on her. Memories were flashing before her; happy and sad ones. Hermione succumbed to them. She let herself go completely, and let her thoughts stray off on their own accord. For a fleeting moment, Hermione just let everything around her sink and melt away. She retired to the beckoning calls of her memories, and dived into them.

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[Flash backs]

Minerva McGonagall had arrived at her house, and informed her that she had been given a place at Hogwarts. Tears of joy ran down her parents' eyes when McGonagall gave them her acceptance letter. She bobbed up and down on the couch, excitement evidently plastered over her small face. Her mother wrapped her arms tightly around her, and gave her a big kiss on the forehead.

She was on the Hogwarts Express, helping Neville to locate Trevor, his lost toad. She met Harry and Ron there as she helped Neville to ask about his missing toad in various compartments of the train.

She was pushing through the crowd of students on the stands of the Quidditch pitch. She must find Snape and try to break his curse on Harry's broomstick. Finally, she managed to locate Snape, and started to set fire to his robes. Harry's broomstick immediately behaved normally again, and he was beginning to regain his balance once more.

She was on the third floor corridor with Harry and Ron. They had managed to lull Fluffy, the three-headed dog into a deep slumber. She stepped over the dog's legs, and approached the trap door. She started to fall down, down, and down until she hit damp ground. The three of them had then been trapped by the Devil's Snare, and it was she who had freed all of them, thanks to her knowledge in Herbology and the attention she gave Professor Sprout when she was teaching. Both Harry and Ron were proud of her.

She was in the Great Hall for the end of year feast. Dumbledore had awarded Harry, Ron and her extra points after their outstanding performance during the mission of trying to get the Philosopher's Stone. The three of them were beaming happily, as Dumbledore announced that Gryfindor had managed to win the House Cup for that year.

She was walking down the corridor leading out of the library. She needed to tell Harry and Ron what she had discovered. The mirror and parchment was clutched firmly in her hands. As she turned into a corner, and as she gazed into the mirror in her hands, she found a pair of large yellow and beady eyes staring back at her. Her whole body went numb, and she faded into oblivion after collapsing hard onto the stone floor.

She was beside Harry, who was trying to conjure his patronus to get the dbementors away from Sirius. "Hermione, help me, will you?" Harry had said. "I…I…can't, Harry." "Expecto patronum!" Harry was screaming at the top of his voice. "Expecto…" she tried, but her hands were trembling too much. Her body felt cold all of a sudden and she passed out cold before she knew it.

She was standing a few feet away from Ron in the Gryfindor commonroom after the Yule Ball. Her hair had started to become bushy again, but she did not care. Both of them were screaming insults at each other. She was furious at Ron, for accusing her of not bothering about him, and only fancying hot guys like Crum.

She was in the Room of Requirement. Dumbledore's Army had just been set up, and Harry was walking about in the room, teaching all the members the patronus charm. Joy overtook her when she managed to conjure her patronus; a silver otter that bounded happily a few feet away from her before fading into a mist. The boy-who-lived gave her a warm smile after watching her performance. She returned it with a broad grin.

Dumbledore's Army had been discovered. Umbridge was now starting to round up all the members of the D.A. The school was in chaos as Dumbledore left on the same night.

She was in the Department of Mysteries, firing curse after curse at the Death Eaters. Antonine Dolohov advanced on her, and they started to duel. The purple jet of light shot out from Dolohov's wand without warning, and hit her squarely on the chest. She collapsed and passed out cold on the floor.

Belatrix Lestrange was torturing her madly, and her whole body was aching. The woman cackled madly as Hermione thrashed and twitched on the ground. Her screams were terrible, but the madwoman continued to torture her mercilessly.

Harry and Hermione had gone to Godric's Hollow. They were in Bathilda Bagshot's upstairs room, where the small cloaked figure had leaded them. Suddenly, without warning, a snake appeared and began to strike at both of them. It was Nagini. The large snake was uncoiling itself, and slithering swiftly towards both of them. Frantically, Harry leapt back and pulled her away as fast as he could manage. She could tell his scar was burning; Voldemort was near. Harry's face contorted into a mask of pain. "Confringo!" she bellowed frantically, as the snake lounged forward for another attack, and everything began to shatter and tear apart in that room. Harry had passed out, clutching his scar with both hands. Hastily, she pulled him away as fast as possible. However, she was shock as she discovered that she had broke his wand into half in the process of the spell just now. Masking her shock and panic, she pulled Harry, who had passed out in pain close to her on the floor and apparated away to another safe location.

She was in the Chamber of Secrets with Ron. He held out a handful of Basilisk fangs to her. She took one of them firmly in her hands, held Helga Hufflepuff's cup tightly in her other hand, and pierced it with all her strength with the fang. A loud scream echoed around the silent chamber, and a black mist evaporated into the air. There was a soft crack after that. And then, all was still and quiet again. The cup shattered into thousands of small shards, and she pocketed them satisfactorily.

She was in the Great Hall, huddled together with Ron and the remaining Weasleys. All of them watched in terror as Molly Weasley advanced on Belatrix Lestrange. Surprisingly and to everyone's shock, Belatrix fall dead on the floor after a fierce struggle; Molly Weasley had managed to get back at the dark side for her dear Fred's death at last. Horror struck her again as the dark lord directed his wand at Molly. "Protego!" a familiar voice shouted. She blinked, and opened her eyes again. It could not be possible; she did not believe her eyes. There, standing in the centre of the Great Hall was none other than the boy-who-lived. He had survived after all. For a moment, all was silent, and then the long awaited moment came. Both the long time and legendary adversaries stood facing each other, gripping their wands firmly in their hands. Her heart was racing and she was shaking all over. In a flash, both Harry and Voldemort flicked their wands, and a jet of green and red light shot through the air. And, it was all over after that.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw the dark lord collapsed onto the ground, as the killing curse which he had casted rebounded, hitting him squarely on the chest. Harry Potter managed to catch the Death Stick in his hands after it had flown out from Voldemort's grip when he collapsed. Triumphantly, he turned and faced the crowd who was still watching the battle, and smiled widely. Tears of joy were pouring out of her eyes. They had succeeded at last. The Great Hall erupted into loud shouts of joy and cheers. She ran towards Harry, and gave him a tight embrace. He kissed her fondly on the forehead before they broke apart. Then, Ron took her into his arms, and the both of them shared another wonderful moment together.

She was standing outside the remains of the small cottage that she had left her parents in Australia. The place was all in rubble now. Broken glass littered the outside of the house, and shatters of wood were scattered everywhere. The Dark Mark hung above her head, glaring back at her fiercely. She blinked back her tears. She could not believe this. She started to walk towards the cottage. "Hermione…" Harry was saying something softly in her ears, but she never registered a single word. Her mind had blanked off, and her vision was beginning to turn blur. "Hermione…" Harry was saying. Two firm and strong hands encircled her waist, and she felt that someone was pulling her away in the opposite direction. "No! No! Mum…Dad…you can't die now, no! Don't leave me…" she mumbled to herself. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. "Hermione, let's get away from here, shall we, dear?" Mrs. Weasley's soft voice came from behind her. She felt herself being pulled into a warm embrace. She leaned into the soft arms embracing her, and started to sob. Darkness suddenly clouded her vision, and her knees gave way. She faded into oblivion.

[End of flash backs]

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Hermione opened her eyes. Tears were beginning to stream down her cheeks again. She hugged her pillow tightly, and buried her face into the soft feathers, sobbing. The memories brought back her past again, and she cried bitterly as each event played out again and again in her head.

She sniffed, and wiped the tears away furiously on the sleeve of her robes. She should not be crying now. It was all over now. This was the past, and it would not happen again. She would make sure of this. After she had completed her task, all would be well, and her worse nightmares would not ever occur at all.

Remembering this, Hermione felt hope bubbling up in her. She could do this, she told herself. She would stop the cause at its root now and here. Tom Marvolo Riddle would be sent to his death soon, before he could become that evil monster and take away another innocent life. She would ensure that this happen, Hermione decided with determination. She was going to kill him, no matter what the consequences were.

With full hatred, she dared a glare at the opposite bed. A pair of midnight blue eyes was staring back at her, and she quickly turned away, slightly shocked. She had no idea that the psycho was already awake. How long had he been looking at her, she wondered. She did not care at all, she decided finally. He can stare at her as much as he liked, and she would just pretend not to have noticed it. She was determined not to let him haunt her life again.

Straightening up, she reached for a laced handkerchief in her pocket, and blew her nose. Then, she swung her legs over the bed, and started to make her way to the bathroom. She closed the door softly and bolted it shut behind her.

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Tom pulled the green and silver quilt up to his head. The weather was very cold, and the coldness seeped through his skin, making him shiver. The warming charm that he had casted on himself earlier had ceased to take effect, and he would have to cast it again later, when the cold is unbearable. He wrapped the covers more tightly around his body, and rolled over onto his side. The cool autumn air still blew through the open window, and Tom growled frustrated, as his body went through another shiver. With another irritated growl, he directed his wand at the window, and flicked it once. The window immediately shut itself, and with another flick, the shutters were pulled down.

This did not work either, as he was still feeling cold and shivering. He hugged himself more tightly, and put both hands under his pillow to warm them. He closed his eyes, and tried to catch a few more minutes of sleep. It was still early in the morning, he noted, and he would be in no hurry to rush to his classes today, seeing that the first period is Transfiguration. He wanted to avoid the old codger Dumbledore as much as possible. His hatred for the professor had increased, after he had ignored him for the rest of the term after the opening of the Chamber of Secrets. Tom knew quite well that the old codger was trying to push his buttons to irritate him further. He would not let that old fool get what he wanted; he would not allow Dumbledore the satisfaction he craved for. He would be out of here without a single tint on his good-student reputation, and he would make sure of this.

A soft click made him jump slightly. He peeped through the small gap in the curtains around his bed. Merope Granger stepped into the room, closing the door silently behind her. She still looked weak, Tom noted, but she maintained her posture well. She started to walk to her side of the room with slow and confident steps.

Tom sighed, and closed his eyes once more. By now, the coldness had ceased, and he felt warm and comfortable. He started to drift off to sleep again.

A sniff from the other side of the room roused Tom from his light slumber. He opened his eyes, and peeped out through the gap in the curtains again. Merope Granger sat with her back to him, and her legs crossed. Her face was buried in a pillow, and she was sobbing silently, sniffing at intervals.

An irritated growl escaped his throat. Why was the girl crying again now? He stared at her. Her body shook slightly as she sobbed into the pillow. Tom wondered whether the war back in France which had caused her to lose her parents had affected her greatly. He did not want to believe this stupid story at first, but the girl's behaviour made the story seemed true. She had terrible nightmares, and would cry at certain times. She had also tried to maintain her stance when he threatened her yesterday. All of these seemed to show that she had been through a lot of hardship during the war and each of her actions seemed to match her story perfectly. After all, Tom could not deny that Grindelwald's forces were becoming stronger, and their attacks were very brutal. He would find out later nevertheless, Tom decided. If he found out that she had indeed told the truth, and nothing but the truth, he would consider putting the matter at rest for the time being.

The girl continued to weep silently. Then, she looked up, and a peculiar expression crossed her face. Tom noticed that she was deep in thought, as she drew her eyebrows together and her forehead creased slightly. And then, she smiled. Tom was getting puzzled. One moment, the girl had cried her eyes out, and next, she was smiling. What was the meaning of all this, he wondered.

Then, an even more peculiar thing happened. The girl wiped away more tear stains on her cheeks, and turned to look at him. She had that same disgusted look plastered on her face; the look she first gave him when they met for the first time in Dippet's office. The look turned into a glare moments later. Tom continued to observe her. This girl was definitely something, he decided; something that he himself could not figure out yet. How dare she give him that look after he had warned her yesterday? Anger was welling up in him. The girl would be thought another lesson later, he decided, and he would not let it be as easy as last night's lesson. She would have to see the full extent of his capabilities, as she was still irritating him in some way after his warnings.

The girl seemed to have noticed him staring back at her somehow, and quickly turned away. She got up from the bed after a few more minutes, and walked towards the bathroom. Tom glanced at her retreating back, and suppressed a yawn.

Then, he threw the quilt to one side of the bed, and rolled over. He stretched, and pushed himself out of bed. With a lazy flick of his wand, the bed was made up neatly, as though no one had slept in it at all the night before.

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Just as yesterday, the day passed peacefully for Hermione. Luckily for her, Charles and Minerva did not seem to notice that something was wrong at her, as she had managed to put up a very well façade in front of them. Before heading for breakfast that morning, she had gone to the hospital wing to obtain some ointment to heal her swollen lips from Madam McCarthy. The matron had taken one look at her, and rushed into her office, returning with the ointment Hermione had requested earlier.

"Merope, my dear, whatever happened to you?" she asked, her face betraying her worry.

"I had a run in with a few Slytherins," Hermione quickly lied. "They managed to push me onto the floor before I knew it, and I had accidentally bitten down on my lips when I fall."

"Oh, you poor girl. You would want to be careful around those boys, you know," Madam McCarthy said, taking out a reel of cotton wool, and dabbing some ointment onto Hermione's lips.

"Don't worry. I will mind my ways around them," Hermione said. "After all, I'm the Head Girl, and I'll ensure that they got their detention for this."

"Good," Madam McCarthy said, dabbing another drop of the ointment onto Hermione's lips. A few seconds later, Hermione felt a pulling sensation on her lips as the skin healed. She thanked the matron, and walked out of the hospital wing.

"Take care of yourself, dear. Don't get hurt again. It's just the beginning of the term, you know?" Madam McCarthy's voice sounded from behind her. Hermione turned, and offered the matron a small wink before stepping out into the corridor and closing the door quietly behind her.

She headed to the Great Hall for breakfast after that. Breakfast was enjoyable as usual, with Mariana gossiping away about the hottest boys in school in this term, and Minerva and Charles having their usual friendly debates. Hermione merely laughed along with them and cracked jokes when she feels like it.

Dumbledore was also quite happy that morning, Hermione gathered. He entered the Transfiguration classroom, bid them a very good morning and immediately started the lesson. This time, they learn the conjuring spell, where various objects can be conjured out of other objects or out of thin air.

Remembering what Dumbledore had done during her third year, Hermione smiled, flicked her wand and a dozen purple sleeping bags were conjured. Everyone in the class looked at her admiringly. Dumbledore gave her a warm smile, and awarded thirty points to Gryfindor for her brilliant performance. Hermione could not feel secretly proud with herself. After all, she had taken three months to perfect the spell as she had figured it out on her own after a lot of research in the library.

"Why, Ms. Granger. I would think that I'm attending a slumber party rather than a Transfiguration lesson now," Dumbledore joked merrily, and faked a yawn. Hermione chuckled at this. The jovial look on Dumbledore's face remained there for the rest of the lesson.

"Wow, Merope," Minerva said, "that was just so amazing. How ever did you manage that?" She flicked her wand, and a few silver goblets appeared out of thin air.

Hermione blushed. "You're amazing too, Mini," she said, giving Minerva a warm smile.

She looked at Riddle, who was sitting opposite her. He had conjured a few silver pebbles out of thin air, and was engraving something on them. She tried to peer more closely, as she was curious. Before she could take a better look, Dumbledore walked in front of her, blocking her view. He began to approach Riddle. Hermione noted with disbelief as Riddle quickly banished the pebbles before Dumbledore had managed to have a proper look at it. What the hell was he up to now, Hermione wondered. Was he trying to piss Dumbledore off? She was not surprised at all if this was indeed the case. Only Dumbledore can see right through him, and he would be bound to hate the old professor.

Dumbledore looked taken aback for a moment. Then, he quickly wiped the disgusted expression from his face, and turned away without saying a word to Riddle. From the corner of her eyes, Hermione saw Riddle smirked, jammed his textbook back into his worn-out schoolbag, and stormed out of the classroom. The other students who were busy with their conjuring spells did not seem to notice this turn of events. Sighing, Hermione turned back to Minerva and Charles, and helped them a bit in improving their spell.

As the bell rang, Hermione, Minerva and Charles filed out of the classroom, talking and laughing happily. They headed for Charms next.

"We'll be having two periods free after lunch," Charles said happily, as they walked towards the Charms classroom, on the next floor. "Professor Merrythought is not back from her business with the Auras' Office in the Ministry yet. So, I expect we'll not be having DADA this week."

"Oh," Minerva's face fell. "I missed her classes. She was so entertaining, you know."

"You called that lady entertaining?" Charles said, eyeing Minerva with disbelief. "Come off it, Mini. She's strict, and it drives us all crazy."

"If only you'll pay attention in her classes…" Minerva trailed off lazily.

"I'm an expert in dueling, you know. I don't need that woman telling me how to hold my wand properly and stuff like that."

Hermione smiled. Charles was so unlike Harry, she noted, despite the resemblance in their looks. He was more carefree and more jovial compared to Harry, she noted, and he also likes to boast a lot about himself. Harry was more sullen, as a great burden was being placed upon him and he would never show off his abilities like Charles.

As they turned the corner that leads to the classroom, they heard a moan behind them, and turned around. Hermione looked up and saw a Ravenclaw prefect coming towards them. She had brown curls, which were bouncing on her back when she walked. Hermione thought she looked like someone from her time, but her brains could not remember who that person was now.

"Hey Cindy! What's up?" Charles said, offering the approaching girl a smile.

The girl smiled back at him before answering.

"You know Professor Merrythought's not back yet, right?"

"Yeah. So what?" Charles asked, giving Cindy another smile.

"I thought that we'll be having the two periods free," Cindy said, "but Nuala just informed me that someone would be replacing her class for today."

"Oh, is it?" Minerva said with excitement. "I wonder who that would be."

"None of us know yet," Cindy said thoughtfully. It was then that she noticed Hermione.

"Oh, you're our Head Girl, right?" she said, extending her hands.

"Holy Slytherin, I forgot," Charles started; "To think that we've been chatting away without an introduction, eh?" he chuckled before continuing.

"Merope, meet Cindy Clearwater, seventh year Ravenclaw prefect."

Clearwater? No wonder she looked familiar, Hermione thought. She was perhaps Penelope Clearwater's ancestor.

"This is our hot and spotting Head Girl Cindy. Meet the honourable Merope Granger," Charles joked, laying a hand on her shoulder. Hermione slapped his hand away from her shoulders playfully, before taking Cindy's hand and giving it a warm shake.

"Nice to meet you," Cindy said, smiling at Hermione for the second time.

"Hey Cyn!" there was another shout from behind them.

"Oh, Charlotte's calling me. I guess I'll be off to Arithmancy now. See you guys in DADA later." Cindy said, waving to them, before turning around and ran towards the opposite side of the corridor. "Coming, Lottie!" they heard her said before disappearing around the corner.

The three of them turned and started to make their way to the Charms classroom.

The classroom was already full by the time they arrived. Minerva managed to find a table at the end of the classroom, and the three of them hurried over to it and put down their belongings beside their seats. Hermione smoothed her uniform, flicked some brown locks away from her face where it had fallen earlier, and plopped down on her seat, which is between Minerva and Charles.

Five minutes later, the professor entered the classroom, carrying a stack of parchments under his arms. Unlike Professor Flitwick back in her time, Hermione noted that this professor was taller, and had a strict look on his face. His moustache made him look more fierce and burly, and Hermione noted that he talked in a slightly hoarse voice.

"Good morning class," he said, "I'm Professor Beerie, as all of you have known, since I've taught you all for the last six years." The classroom erupted into laughter. Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. She could not imagine that this teacher can be so friendly, despite his looks.

"Well, don't judge a book by its cover, Merope," Minerva said from beside her, noticing Hermione's surprise look. "He can be nice when he wanted to, you know."

"Yeah, and I can tell you straightaway that I prefer Beerie rather than Merrythought," Charles cut in, giving Hermione a sheepish grin.

Hermione smiled at both Minerva and Charles, and turned her attention back to Professor Beerie, who had walked to the front of the class.

"Now, as all of you know, this is an extremely important year, as you'll be sitting for your NEWTs soon. So, I would ask you to give your fullest attention while I'm teaching. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," the whole class echoed.

"Good. Now, today we'll be doing something exciting," Professor Beerie said, clapping both hands together. "As I had promised all of you last summer, before you went off for summer break, we'll be doing more advanced charms this year. Today, I'll teach all of you an exciting charm, and I'm sure all of you will be interested."

Everyone was silent, giving their fullest attention to the professor.

"Please take out your textbooks, and turn to page 145," said Professor Beerie. Immediately, books appeared on the table, and rustling sounds can be heard as the students ruffled through the pages of their books until they found what they were looking for. Excited chatter started to broke out amongst them.

Hermione turned to the appropriate page, and glanced at the heading. A small smile spread across her face. She had learned this charm already, and had practiced it a thousand times, thanks to Harry. She was sure that she could handle it now.

Professor Beerie cleared his throat, and the class was quiet again, as the chatter of students begins to die down.

"The patronus charm is one of the most advanced charms used by witches and wizards. When this charm is casted correctly, one would be able to produce a patronus. Now, as I expect that all of you are familiar with the characteristics of this charm, as I've asked you to read up on it earlier during summer break, I'll not waste my time explaining them to you now. We'll be doing the practical straightaway."

Ignoring moans from the class, Professor Beerie tapped his wand on the board, and the incantation appeared.

"Now, who can tell me how to pronounce this charm in the correct way?" he asked, looking expectantly at all the students in the classroom.

As usual, two hands shot up into the air. Professor Beerie raised his eyebrows, and looked at both the students.

"Ah, shall we give Ms. Granger a chance, Tom?" he asked, beaming at Riddle. Riddle just lowered his hand without a word. Hermione was pleased with this.

"Now, Ms. Granger, can you tell me how to pronounce the incantation correctly?" Professor Beerie turned towards her, after giving Riddle another bright smile.

"Yes, professor. The correct pronunciation is "expecto patronum"," she said confidently.

"Very good, Ms. Granger. Five points to Gryfindor," said Professor Beerie, giving Hermione a thumbs-up. "I know that this charm is quite difficult. So, I'll not be surprised if some of you cannot perform it at the end of this class. Nevertheless, there's no harm trying, is there?"

The class was still silent.

"I'll demonstrate how to cast this charm first, and then I'll let you off to practice on your own," Professor Beerie said, holding up his wand. All the other students sat up straight, and gave their attention to Professor Beerie.

"Expecto patronum!" Professor Beerie said, waving his wand. A silver badger erupted from the end of his wand, and bounded across the classroom for a few seconds before disappearing into a swirl of mist. The students clapped and looked impressed.

"Now, you may practice it on your own, or you may find a partner. You may begin now," Professor Beerie said, as he started to walk around the class, observing each student.

Scraping sounds can be heard, as students started to get up, and walked to different ends of the classroom. Some of them dragged a partner along with them. Hermione, Minerva and Charles decided to practice on their own, and the three of them made their way to one corner of the classroom, before standing a few feet apart from each other.

Hermione took a deep breath, and closed her eyes, and thought of a happy memory.

She remembered the cheerful looks on everyone's face when the final battle was over. Harry was smiling triumphantly, lifting the Death Stick into the air and the Great Hall boomed with cheers of joy and laughter, as the remaining Death Eaters begin to flee the Great Hall after their leader's downfall.

"Expecto patronum!"

A silver otter burst out of her wand. Hermione watched it as it bounded across the classroom, before disappearing in a swirl of silver mist.

Hermione did not realize that all the other students were staring at her now. She was still enjoying every bit of the memory. Finally, the dark lord had been vanquished forever. There would be no more innocent lives taken away mercilessly, and the wizarding world would be free from the evil again.

"Wow, Merope," Minerva's voice jolted her from her thoughts. Hermione turned, and looked at Minerva. The other girl had an admiring look on her face. Charles had joined them, clutching his wand in his right hand.

"That was brilliant, Merope. How ever did you manage it? The rest of us were struggling with it. Even Riddle had not managed it yet," Charles said, giving Hermione a grin. Hermione smiled back shyly at him.

"That was nothing at all," she said, "I learned it years back, when my friend thought it to me. He was such a great wizard, you know." Memories of Harry flooded her thoughts, and a pang of sadness overtook her. She missed Harry now. She wished he was beside her now, sharing her joy.

"Oh, that was wonderful. Can you teach us, Merope?" Charles said, looking hopefully at her.

"Of course," Hermione said, smiling. She dared a glanced at the opposite end of the classroom, where Riddle was standing. Perspiration was forming on his forehead. His brows were furrowed in deep concentration, and Hermione could tell that he was having difficulty with the charm. He gripped his wand so tightly that his knuckles were beginning to turn white. He brought his wand down in a swift movement, but nothing happened. A silvery mist emitted from the tip of his wand, and disappeared into thin air moments later. Hermione noted that Riddle was beginning to get frustrated.

She smiled at this. Of course the dark lord would not be able to conjure a patronus. After all, what happy memories that he had? He had none at all, as he was an emotionless person, and could not feel anything at all.

"Merope?" Charles' voice jolted Hermione away from her thoughts again. She quickly turned, and smiled at him.

"Hmm?" she enquired.

"Are you going to teach me how to do it?" he asked excitedly.

"Certainly. Just close your eyes, think of a happy memory, and said the incantation."

"That's it?" Minerva asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yes," Hermione replied, smiling at the other girl.

"Let's try it then, shall we?" Charles said, giving Minerva a wink. The both of them started to move a few feet away from Hermione, excitement clearly plastered on their faces.

After a few tries, Minerva managed to produce a silvery form, which disappeared into thin air a few seconds later.

"Yay! I almost did it," Minerva said, smiling happily. Charles also managed to produce a silvery form just like Minerva after a few more tries. He smiled happily at Minerva, and gave Hermione a wink.

"Thank you, Merope. I'm sure I'll be able to master it if I continued to practice," he said.

"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll do it find. After all, this is only the first lesson," Hermione said, beaming at both of them.

"Well done, Ms. Granger. I must say that I'm impressed with your performance just now," Professor Beerie said from behind her, and Hermione quickly turn around, startled. She had not realized that the professor was behind her.

"Thank you, professor."

"Twenty points to Gryfindor," he said, walking away and giving Hermione a warm smile. Then, he turned back abruptly.

"Ms. Granger, since you're the only one who managed to produce a patronus, would you like to give the class another demonstration of how to do it?"

"Certainly, professor," Hermione said, her face beginning to grow hot. She did not notice that she was blushing.

"Go on, Head Girl, show us! Show us!" Charles said, giving her shoulders a push.

Hermione tried to look calm as she walked to the front of the classroom. Her knees were threatening to give way, but she continued to push herself forward. She had never been in the spotlight before, and she was nervous about it. All eyes were on her now. She noticed that a particular dark-haired Slytherin was staring at her with midnight blue eyes wide opened. Riddle was probably surprised and curious how she had managed the charm, Hermione decided.

Finally, she managed to reach the front of the classroom, and turned around to face the others.

"Now, please give your attention to Ms. Granger, class," Professor Beerie said, stepping beside Hermione.

Hermione took another deep breath, and closed her eyes. She summoned another happy memory from her thoughts.

She was attending the end of the year feast. Dumbledore awarded her fifty points for Gryfindor, for solving Snape's riddle in the mission of obtaining the Philosopher's Stone. Harry, Ron and Neville also earn points for their house, making Gryfindor win the House Cup of the year instead of Slytherin. The Great Hall cheered excitedly at this.

"Expecto patronum!" she brought her wand down in a swift movement and the silver otter once again burst out from the end of her wand. It bounded a few feet away, and then disappeared in a swirl of silvery mist. The whole class applauded her, and Hermione blushed again.

"Well done again, Ms. Granger. Take another ten points for Gryfindor. Very impressive indeed, my girl," Professor Beerie said, giving Hermione another smile.

"Thank you, professor," Hermione said, returning the professor's smile before walking away to join Minerva and Charles who were busy talking to Roger and Bilius at the back of the classroom.

Professor Beerie was now talking to Riddle, Hermione noted. No doubt giving him some advice, she decided. The professor patted Riddle on the shoulder shortly after a few more exchanges, and smiled at him before walking away. Riddle's face remained blank without any emotion throughout the whole exchange. Hermione was not surprised about this at all.

For the third time in two days, Hermione felt secretly proud of herself, of having bested Riddle in something.

"It won't be long, Mr. Riddle. I'll ensure that you fall to your death before another unforgivable escape your mouth," Hermione muttered to herself, before gathering up her things, and walking out of the classroom with Minerva and Charles as Professor Beerie dismissed the class.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tom stormed out of the Charms classroom angrily. The Head Girl had managed to best him again today in Charms. How dare she do this to him, after his warning?

He would get rid of her tonight, he decided. She was going to learn it again once and for all, and Tom would ensure that she would never dare to disobey him again.

He was already angry during Transfiguration. The old codger had ignored him for half of the lesson. He noted with disgust as he praised Merope Granger's handiwork, and joked about it merrily. Tom scowled, and flicked his wand to produce what he wanted. A dozen silver pebbles appeared, and he started to carve some Runes on them. He moved his wand in a complicated motion, delicately guiding it around the pebbles which he had arranged in a circular pattern on his desk, carefully tracing the pattern of the Runes which he had in his mind.

He was just putting the final touches to the last of the pebbles when the old codger turned his attention to him at last. Anger was boiling inside of him, and he tried to control it as best as possible.

Before the old codger managed to have a proper look at his handiwork, Tom hastily flicked his wand, and banished all of the pebbles. If he was offended, the old codger did not show it at all. He merely gave Tom a disgusted look, before turning away. Tom smirked satisfactorily. If the old codger was so keen to play games with him, he would happily go along and play the same game too, Tom decided. He jammed his textbook into his bag, and stormed out of the classroom without looking back.

Tom continued to walk down the corridor thoughtfully. How she had managed to produce a patronus, Tom wondered. He himself could not even do it, after trying for countless times. He had tried to imagine the happiest memory that he had ever had, but everything he thought of did not work at all.

He had tried thinking of the day when he received his letter.

"Expecto patronum!"

Nothing happened at all.

He tried another memory, where he had discovered that he was the heir of Slytherin, and had managed to open the Chamber of Secrets.

"Expecto patronum!" Still nothing happened.

He imagined the frightened look on Tom Riddle SR's face when he killed him.

"Expecto patronum!" Nothing burst out of the tip of his wand. He was beginning to get frustrated. Why wouldn't it work?

Then, a certain brunette caught his attention. She was standing opposite him at the other end of the classroom, clutching her wand in her right hand. Tom saw her taking a deep breath, and closing her eyes.

For a moment, Tom observed her. Merope Granger did not do anything at all. She just stand there, with her eyes closed and her face screwed up in concentration. Tom could not help wondering what she was thinking. He longed to read her thoughts. He decided to do it using legilimency and occlumency tonight, as he had already mustered all of this last summer. While he breaks the girl, he would read her thoughts as well, he decided.

He was about to turn away, when Merope Granger waved her wand and brought it down in a swift motion. Immediately, a silver otter burst out from the end of her wand, and began to bound a few feet away from her. Then, it disappeared in a swirl of silvery mist.

The whole class was now staring open-mouthed at her. Tom himself was surprised after witnessing this. He could not imagined that she would be able to do this so beautifully in the first lesson.

Anger was welling up in him. How come he couldn't do this?

What is it that prevented him from producing a patronus? He took a deep breath and tried again. Still, nothing happened at all.

Finally, after a few more tries, he managed to produce a silvery mist, but it disappeared into thin air just as quickly as it had appeared seconds before. From the corner of his eyes, Tom saw a pair of hazel brown eyes gazing at him, before looking away quickly. The nerve of that girl! Could she just stop staring at him for just a moment? He was beginning to get angrier as the seconds ticked by.

Of course Professor Beerie was happy with Granger's performance. He had asked her to demonstrate the charm to the whole class. Tom noted with disgust as the girl stepped to the front of the classroom, blushing slightly. He could not help noticing how beautiful she looked when she turned red, her dimple glowing more warmly than before.

Realising what he was thinking again, he immediately jabbed himself hard in the ribs with his wand, and concentrate once more on the charm. Granger had just produced her patronus for the second time. Tom and the others watched with amazement as the silver otter bounded across the classroom for a few seconds before disappearing. The whole class applauded after that, and gave her admiring looks.

Tom quickly turned away. He could not stand this any longer. He was just heading out of the classroom, when Professor Beerie approached him.

"Oh Tom, m'boy," he said, "There's no need to worry, you know. Most students got stuck with this charm for some time. I'm sure you'll be able to manage it after a few more tries."

Plastering a fake smile on his face, Tom turned and faced Professor Beerie.

"Yes, professor. I know. I just feel a bit disappointed with myself for not managing to cast this charm in my first lesson," he said in an emotionless voice.

"Not to worry, m'boy. You'll manage just fine," Professor Beerie said, giving his shoulder a light pat before walking away.

Tom looked around him. All the students had left the classroom by now. He bolted the door shut quickly, and turned back to the classroom. His magic was crackling dangerously around him, and he was prepared to let it out now.

He pointed his wand to the teacher's table, and with a flick, he blasted the table into pieces. Then, he turned and blasted all the desks and chairs in the classroom. He punched the blackboard furiously with his fists, and kicked the dustbin to one side of the classroom, spilling the rubbish out into a messy heap onto the floor.

Then, with one swift flick of his wand, the room was restored to its normal condition again. Feeling satisfied, Tom let out a deep sigh and walked out of the classroom.

With a smirk, Tom took out the crumpled piece of parchment that Professor Merrythought had given him earlier, and smoothed it out. This was a written instruction from Merrythought, giving Tom the permission to replace her for DADA for this week, as her official business with the Auras' Office was not over yet. She had given him the permission to conduct the class, telling him exactly what to teach the class. Tom was pleased with that. The DADA professor had started to like him the first time she set eyes on him, during his first year. She thought that he had the potential to become a great wizard in the future, and Tom was not going to let her down. Throughout the years, he had proven to Merrythought that she was not wrong. He had excelled in her classes, mustering all the spells she thought him. In fact, he had also invented a few spells on his own, which he did not share with Merrythought and the others. All the other students admired him when it comes to DADA. Tom felt superior and proud about this.

He was the apple of Merrythought's eye. He had talked her into letting him take some of her classes sometimes, but she had declined politely. He could not believed that she gave in to him at last. She was now completely wrapped around his little finger. Tom smirked at this.

Being a DADA professor was in fact always his dreams. He imagined himself one day in the future, standing in front of the classroom and teaching students how to cast certain spells. This thought made him feel happy for a moment, but the happiness quickly disappeared as other thoughts entered his head. He doubted that the old codger Dumbledore would let him have the position if he was Headmaster by the time he applied for the job. He hoped that Dippet would live long enough until all his goals were achieved.

Tom glanced down once more at the spidery and cursive script written in Merrythought's hand, and smiled. His day could not have turned out better; after all he had endured this morning. At least this was a topic that he liked. Merrythought had instructed him to lecture about unforgivable curses, their uses and allow him to demonstrate all three curses to the class. This was exactly what he was waiting to do. Merrythought's last sentences, which were scripted at the back of the paper made him, chuckled.

"Mind you, do not harm a student using those curses. Just use a small animal, such as a flobberworm or a spider to perform these curses. You are only allowed to do this once. Headmaster Dippet allowed this after I talked him into it. We need to be careful at these times, and learn everything that can be used as self defence now, as the war with Grindelwald is still raging now."

He stuffed the piece of parchment back into his pocket, and walked towards the DADA classroom. He decided to skip lunch, and get prepared before the other students arrived. He was sure that he would have an enjoyable afternoon.

He reached the classroom, took out a wooden key from his pocket and turned it in the lock. When he heard a click, he muttered the password which Merrythought had given him and pushed the door open. He stepped into the classroom, closed the door quietly behind him and sat down at the front of the classroom on Merrythought's chair. He ticked off the seconds using his fingers, and waited patiently for the bell to ring.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After having lunch at the Great Hall, Hermione and the others began to walk to the DADA classroom, which was situated on the fifth floor corridor. When they reached there, the Ravenclaws and Slytherins were already gathered outside the door. It seemed that they were having a combined class again, Hermione noted.

The door was already open, and students were filing into the classroom, chatting away noisily among themselves. Hermione could see that who ever replacing Professor Merrythought was clearly not here yet. She walked on more briskly beside Minerva and managed to find a seat at the front of the classroom. Surprisingly, it was not claimed by Riddle, Hermione noted. He always claimed the front seat, she had observed from the past few days. Why would he sit somewhere else now, she wondered.

Her question was answered five minutes later. Minerva, who was sitting beside her, let out a small gasp. Charles poked Hermione's arm to get her attention. She hastily looked up, and could not believe what she saw.

She blinked and opened her eyes again. This could not be true, she thought. How could it possibly be like this?

There, standing at the front of the classroom was Tom Riddle. His black hair was neatly combed and parted to one side as usual, and his robes were smooth without a single crease on them. He was holding up his hands, to get the students' attention.

Hermione tried to calm her racing heart. Perhaps he was going to make some announcement, she comforted herself. After all, he was the Head Boy.

"Is he…" Minerva trailed off from beside her.

"Holy Slytherin!" Charles muttered, looking at Riddle disbelievingly.

"I can't deny he's good in DADA…" Minerva trailed off again.

"Bloody hell!" Charles continued to exclaim under his breath.

The classroom was now silent. All eyes were on the figure standing in front of the class, who was now twirling his wand with a relaxed expression on his face. Riddle cleared his throat and started to speak in his smooth and silky voice. Hermione looked at him with disgust before quickly turning away.

"Good afternoon, my friends," Riddle started, giving them a smile. A few Slytherin girls started to giggle stupidly. Hermione just ignored them. She was not surprised that all of them were impressed with Riddle's persona. He was indeed an excellent actor after all.

"As all of you know, Professor Merrythought cannot make it back to Hogwarts this week, as her official business with the Auras' Office is not over yet. So, she had kindly allowed me to replace her class for today. I've got her written permission right here," Riddle said, holding up a piece of blue parchment. Hermione squinted at the writing in disbelief. How can someone such as Merrythought be so dumb as to allow that bloody psycho to conduct the class? She was boiling with anger now. He was definitely going to teach them dark magic, she reasoned.

The signature was clear enough to speak all that the other students wanted to know. All of them looked at Riddle admiringly. Satisfied with the responses he get, Riddle smirked, put the parchment back into his pocket, and walked to the front of the classroom.

"Wow, I can't wait to see what's he got up his sleeves. After all, he's our star student for DADA," Hermione heard Roger said admiringly from behind her. She ignored his comment completely. She was beginning to get angry, and she hoped that she would not throw a tantrum in front of the whole class soon.

"So, if there are no objections, and all is good, we'll begin our lesson for the day," Riddle said, still twirling his wand between his thin and long fingers.

All the students were silent now.

"Oh my God," Hermione heard Mariana's idiotic squeal from a few rows behind her.

"Oh my God," Roger and Bilius echoed after her. The three of them started to giggle.

"What in the name of God is going on?" Minerva sighed from beside her.

"No idea, Mini. I think Merrythought's lost her nerves. How can she ask a student to replace her classes?" Charles said.

Hermione ignored all of this. She was trying her best to control the anger which was welling inside her. She clenched her fists tightly and places both of her hands in her lap.

Riddle's smooth voice brought Hermione out of her thoughts. She straightened up, and stared straight ahead of her, preparing for what is going to come next.

"Today, we'll be learning something very dangerous and advanced. I have Professor Merrythought's permission to teach it to all of you. Owing to the war, there is a need to know all the possible spells, as a measure of self defence. In fact, Professor Merrythought told me that she was going to teach the same topic if she was available today. So, I'll be honoured to take her place just for today and taught all of you the same topic myself. If there are no objections, we'll move on." He eyed the class questioningly.

"What are we learning, Tom?" a Slytherin prefect asked. Hermione looked at the girl, and noticed she looked exactly like Pansy Parkinson, the cow, back in her time.

"Ms. Parkinson, if you'll be patient, I'll get to it soon," Riddle said, giving the girl a small smile.

"Parkinson indeed," Hermione scoffed inwardly. "I'm not surprised at all."

Parkinson blushed, and quickly turned away, giggling. Hermione gave her a disgusted look, and turned back to Riddle, who was standing a few feet away from her table now.

"Is there any objections at all?" he asked again.

Everyone shook their heads. Riddle smiled satisfactorily, and straightened up.

"Good," he said. "Today, we'll be learning the unforgivable curses."

Hermione tensed. She knew it! Still she was not prepared for this. How could he teach them all of this now? Of course he would be happy, Hermione noted. He had performed all these curses for countless times, and she was sure that he had no trouble at all casting them. It would definitely give him more pleasure to watch others suffer. Once more, she wondered how Merrythought had so willingly passed the class to him. Something seemed not quite right, she noted. Perhaps Riddle had talked her into it; after all, he was a sweet talker, and would get what he wanted with his well put up façade. Or perhaps he had put Merrythought under the Imperius curse. Hermione figured that the latter seemed more probable. She was not surprised at this. Lord Voldemort always gets what he wanted, by using whatever means which is possible. She remembered with disgust the trap he had set for Harry back in their fifth year, where he had purposely opened up his mind for Harry to enter into his thoughts. He had cleverly constructed false images which had lead Harry to believe that Sirius was in danger, to lure him to the Department of Mysteries. Hermione's fists clenched at this memory, and she gritted her teeth tightly together.

"Its time for you to pay for all you've done, Tom Marvolo Riddle," she muttered silently under her breath. "I'll make sure of this, yes I will."

Remembering what Riddle had just said, she shuddered slightly. She could not help feeling a bit scared at the thought that they are going to learn the unforgivable curses today. After what Barty Crouch JR who disguised himself as Mad-Eye Moody demonstrated all the curses to her whole class during fourth year, she was still shaken from the experience. Torture at Malfoy Manor and the war had also left her shaken, after witnessing the curses which were cast by the Death Eaters. Not to mention her torturing session with the psychopathic Lord Voldemort yesterday. Hermione Jean Granger was certainly not prepared to endure this for another time.

Her heart was racing now. Her whole body was trembling. Hermione sucked in a deep breath, and tried to calm her nerves. Beside her, Minerva and Charles exchanged a confused and frightened look and Hermione could tell that they were nervous too.

Hermione looked around the classroom, and found that most of the students had turned pale. Malfoy and his gang were huddled together at one corner of the classroom, franticly whispering to one another. Parkinson and her gang of giggling girls looked shocked and had turned quite pale. Mariana, Roger and Bilius had cupped their mouths with their hands, staring disbelievingly at Riddle.

With hatred, Hermione finally looked up, and stared straight at Riddle. His face was still blank without emotion as he surveyed the class with his midnight blue eyes, while tapping his foot absent-mindedly on the floor.

"Don't worry," he finally said, chuckling softly. "Professor Merrythought thought that this would help all of you to boost your confidence. With the war raging on and Grindelwald's forces becoming more powerful, one must be prepared for anything."

The class remained silent.

"I'll explain about all the curses in detail, and then I'll demonstrate all of them just for once to all of you. There is no need to worry, my friends. We'll not be practicing these spells, you know. Professor Merrythought thought that it would be sufficient just to let all of you witness how to use these curses."

"What a brilliant excuse," Hermione scoffed again. "Professor Merrythought this, Professor Merrythought that. Just tell the class you're going to perform unforgivables right now, my Lord."

"Merope?" Minerva said from beside her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Hermione quickly said, before forcing a smile onto her face.

"You've turned so pale," Charles said, "and you're mumbling to yourself for the past ten minutes. Is there something wrong?" He eyed her with concern.

"No, everything's fine. I've just got a headache, that's all," Hermione lied, pressing her fingers to her temples and pretended to massage them.

Minerva gave her shoulder a light squeeze.

"Relax. I don't think he's going to actually do it in front of us, you know," she said.

"I'm not so sure about that, Mini. Did you see the mad glint in his eyes just now?" Charles said, looking scared.

The other students were muttering quietly to themselves, as Riddle began to explain about the curses.

"So far, witches and wizards had managed to develop three different unforgivable curses," he started. "The first one is known as the Imperius curse. This curse would cause a person to obey the spoken or unspoken command of the caster. A person who is controlled by this curse will experience a wonderful sensation, and felt as though they are completely released from any sense of responsibility or worry over his or her actions, at the price of their own free will. However, it is possible for a person to resist the effects of this curse, if they have a strong enough will, but the chances are very small. Research had shown that most people were unable to resist this curse until now."

The classroom was silent. Hermione was getting angrier as the seconds ticked by. There was the stupid psycho, teaching dark magic in front of the class, poisoning their brains with his favourite dark spells. She must stop this from going further, she reasoned.

"The spell is "imperio"," Riddle said, tapping his wand on the board, and the words appeared. "Now, watch this," Riddle said. Hermione's heart raced faster as Riddle stepped towards the teacher's desk and picked up a small box. He opens it, and Hermione saw a small spider inside it. Riddle tipped the spider onto the desk, and straightened up.

"No!" Hermione screamed inwardly. She was not going to watch this again. She could not stand it for another time.

"Engorgio!" Riddle said, and the spider begins to grow. All the other students looked at him, speechless.

When the spider had grown big enough so that the whole class would be able to see it, Riddle stopped the spell with a lazy flick of his wand.

"Imperio!" he said quietly. Hermione noted the glee in his voice, and her insides cringed with disgust. She wished she could do something, but her legs were too numb to move. She just sat there, gazing at Riddle.

"Come to me," Riddle started to command, in the same soft voice. The spider crawled away from its place on the desk, and advanced towards Riddle.

"Flip over," Riddle commanded, and the spider obediently flipped over onto its side.

"Tap dance for just a bit, will you?"

The spider immediately stands on its legs, and began to dance, wobbling slightly. The class started to laugh. A few Slytherins begin to cheer.

"Go back to the desk."

The spider started to crawl obediently towards the desk.

After it had climbed up once again onto the desk, Riddle flicked his wand, and lifted the curse.

"That's wonderful, Tom," Parkinson said. "Can you teach me how to do it?"

Riddle smiled at the girl again. "Maybe next time, Parkinson. This is extremely dark magic, and I myself did not wish to repeat this. I regretted my actions just now. The act was simply evil."

"Look who's talking," Hermione scoffed inwardly. "I wish I can record this conversation now, and show it to Harry later. He'll turned nuts and laughed himself till he's crazy."

Hermione started to laugh softly.

"Merope, are you okay?" Minerva asked, looking at Hermione with a worry expression on her face.

"Yeah," Hermione quickly said, trying hard to suppress her laughter. Riddle was watching her now. A puzzled expression crossed his face. Hermione did not care about this.

"You laughed like a madwoman just now, you know?" Charles cut in.

"Oh, I was thinking about a joke one of my friends once told me. Sorry," Hermione lied quickly, covering her face in embarrassment.

Minerva and Charles just gave her another quizzical look, before turning back to Riddle.

"Now, we'll be learning the second curse. This is much more terrible, and I'll ask all of you to bear with me," Riddle said.

"The curse is known as the Cruciatus curse. It inflicts unbearable pain on the recipient of the curse. This is the worse form of torture which one can ever imagined. The incantation is "crucio"."

All the students looked frightened and scared.

"I'm sorry about this," Riddle said, advancing towards the spider.

Hermione noticed that his eyes were gleaming red with madness now. She was surprised that he still managed to put up his façade for that long. She gave his back another disgusted look, before gazing downwards at her feet.

"Crucio!"

Hermione looked up and saw that the spider had begin to twitch uncontrollably, its legs stretching out from its body. It tossed and turned and twitched on the desk. Hermione cupped her hands to her mouth. She was reliving her past again. The world around her began to spin and spin. She could hear the faint gasps of the other students as the spider continued to twitch and thrashed about.

Finally, Riddle lifted the curse. All the students were now clutching their chairs, with scared expression clearly plastered on their faces.

Malfoy and his gang had huddled closer to each other, Hermione noted. They looked white as a sheet, and did not utter a single word. Parkinson looked stunned, with her mouth hanging open.

"Tom, that was…that was…" she started to said, but trailed off quickly, and turned away.

Riddle merely gave the girl a quizzical look, before turning away. He faced the class once more, and cleared his throat softly. Immediately, everyone's attention snaps back to him.

"I'm sorry, but the next one is worse. Please be prepared and bear with me. The faster we get this over with, the better it is," Riddle said. "I'll dismissed the class after this, I promise."

Hermione felt that she was going to faint. She was not ready for this. She was not going to let Riddle take another innocent life away again, even though it was just a spider. The insect had every right to live just as an ordinary human being, and she would not let it die just yet.

"The last of the unforgivables is the killing curse," Riddle said quietly, his voice laced with malice. "No one would be able to survive it. The person hit by this curse would experience a painless death. The incantation is "avada kedavra"."

Hermione shuddered at this. He was going to kill the spider now.

Riddle pointed his wand at the spider.

No, Hermione thought. This would not happen again.

"I'm sorry," Riddle said quietly, and Hermione noted that he forced the three tiny words out of his mouth unwillingly. All the students started to fidget uncomfortably in their seats.

"Are you going to kill it, Tom?" Parkinson asked in a small voice.

"Yes, and I'm really sorry about it. It would just be over in a few seconds though. Just is patient. Try not to look at it, will you?" Riddle said in a soothing voice.

"Riddle…" Charles started, getting to his feet.

"Is there a problem Mr. Potter?" Riddle asked, raising his voice slightly.

"Are you sure that this is wise, performing a violent act like this in front of the whole class?" Charles said confidently.

"Mr. Potter, I've been given the permission to conduct this class, in case you've forgotten," Riddle said, holding up the blue parchment which he had dumped on the table just now. "Professor Merrythought had talked this over with me. She asked me to demonstrate all the three unforgivables, including this one to all of you. It'll just be once, and then all would be over. I regret doing this, but I think I do not have much choice in the matter. If you have any problem with this, you can talk to Professor Merrythought herself when she returned next week."

Charles just looked at Riddle, and then drew back quickly. Riddle was getting angry now, Hermione noted. The softness on his face which had been plastered earlier faded and was replaced with a hard look.

"Now, will you please get back to your seat, Mr. Potter, and let me finish this off once and for all?" Riddle mocked. A few Slytherins gave Charles a dirty look, and snickered.

Charles backed away, and plopped down on his seat. He looked very angry, Hermione noted. Minerva puts a hand on his shoulder, and whispered something into his ears. After a few more exchanges between them, Charles brightens up, and gave his attention back to Riddle.

Riddle walked the last few paces until he was a few feet away from the desk. He gazed at the class, and raised his wand.

"Avada kedavra!" his voice was so smooth and silky as the two words left his mouth.

A jet of blinding green light shot out from the tip of his wand, and moved towards the spider.

"Stop it!" the scream came out of her mouth before she knew it. "No!"

Without knowing what she was doing, Hermione's body moved on its own accord. She quickly sprang up from her seat, and lounged forward to grab the spider from the desk.

Horrified screams filled the classroom. Hermione stretched out her hands as far as possible to try and grab the spider. Feeling its soft body, Hermione quickly clenched her fist tightly around it, and drew away. The jet of green light was advancing towards her now. Hermione did not notice this until it was too late. She let out a surprised gasp.

"Merope!" someone screamed behind her. "No!"

Hermione turned, and saw Charles getting to his feet, lounging forward to grab her waist. Panic was clearly shown on his face. Minerva's face had turned white, and she pulled a protesting Charles firmly by his collar, preventing him from moving further. Hermione sucked in a deep breath. Death was coming to claim her now. She, Hermione Jean Granger had finally fall into the hands of Lord Voldemort now. She was prepared to die. She would die proudly, just like Sirius, Dumbledore, Lupin, Thonks and all the others. She closed her eyes and waited for the curse to hit her body.

Just before the jet of green light hit her, two strong arms wrapped around her waist, and pulled her out of the way. Hermione could guess that it was a male student, judging by the strength he used to guide her body away from the killing curse, but she did not bother to look up to see who he was. Screams were still echoing around the classroom. However, Hermione barely registered this.

She heard a loud blast, as the curse impacted with the teacher's desk, and blasted it into pieces. More screams filled the classroom. Some students were running out of the door, their footsteps echoing noisily against the floor and into the corridors.

Hermione began to tremble uncontrollably. Cold sweat trickled down her forehead. Tears were welling up in her eyes. She opened her still clenched fist, and looked down at the spider. It was still moving. Hermione uttered a silent prayer, and throw the spider onto the floor gently. It immediately crawled away under one of the desks.

The person who was grabbing her released his grip on her waist. Hermione staggered a few steps forward, before her knees begin to buckle and give way under her. Her vision was beginning to get blur. Swimming images filled her eyes. She could still make up some forms moving about her. No doubt her friends were trying to help her, Hermione noted. However, her brain could no longer register what they were saying. She straightened up, and tried to ignore the dizziness which was overcoming her.

Before she knew it, Hermione collapsed in a heap on the cold stone floor, and fainted.

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** There! It's finally done! Hope all of you liked it. Please read and review as usual. Thank you.

** Next chapter will be up soon!

^^ Hermione Hean Fui ^^


	11. CHAPTER 11: DUMBLEDORE'S PROPOSITION

A/N: Hey! Here's a new chapter. Hope all of you enjoyed reading the last chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. The coming chapters will be more exciting, as more events will unfold. So, do stay patient and continue to read! Do continue to offer your suggestions and post your reviews. Once again, special thanks to those who reviewed for the last chapter.

Some of you might think that the events from the last chapter may be too illogical, given that Hermione had been through the war and had went through a lot of hardship before. You might think that it was unlikely that she would went all out just to protect a spider, as the war had made her stronger. I would like to clarify on this point now. True enough, Hermione had witnessed more evil acts in her time, thus when she is thrown back to Tom's time, where nothing of that sort had happened yet, she was not prepared to face her past again. She imagined the spider as another innocent life, and she went all out to protect it. She was also overtaken by grief and memories from the past too. So, I made it seemed that she was not thinking straight at that time, and acted in such a silly manner, to give my story a slightly different twist. Hope all of you liked it.

Furthermore, I'm looking for a beta now. I hope it would not be too long, before I'll be able to find one. So, please do bear with me for any spelling and grammatical errors for now.

And now, on with the story! Enjoy!

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Chapter 11: Dumbledore's Proposition

Albus Dumbledore sat in a straight-backed leather armchair behind his large mahogany desk. His phoenix, Fawkes was fast asleep on its perch at the top of the drawer situated to the right of his desk. The various trinkets which he kept in his small and crowded office buzzed with energy and the magic inside them crackled around him merrily.

He turned the final pages of the book he was currently skimming through, and closed it with a soft sigh a few minutes later. There was still nothing that he had found so far that would be useful to the girl, Merope Granger.

Dumbledore let out a great sigh, and took off his half-moon spectacles. He wiped them on his robes with a thoughtful expression on his face. He had spent the rest of the afternoon after his class in the morning researching alternative methods of time travel. He was keen to help Merope Granger, the new girl to return to her own time as fast as possible. He knew that it would severely affect the timeline if her presence was longer than it is intended.

At first, he could not help feeling suspicious about the girl. She had turned up in Dippet's office in such a short notice, and Dumbledore was quite sure that she had used a fake identity. The thing which puzzled him was the name that she had chosen to use. After all, Merope was not a very common name in the wizarding world. Thus far, he had only known one person with such a name, and that was none other than the daughter of Marvolo Gaunt, or better known as Tom Marvolo Riddle's mother. He hoped that the fact that the Head Girl shared the same name as that woman was only a coincidence.

He could not help wonder sometimes whether she knew something about Tom Riddle's past. He figured that Riddle must have a great influence in the future, as he could not help noticing the disgusted look the girl gave Riddle whenever they locked gazes. However, he did not intend to ask the girl about it, as he knew clearly the rules pertaining to time travel. Nevertheless, he could not help feeling a bit troubled. He hoped that the future would not be just like what he had predicted. He was worried about what a certain teenage half-blood boy would do in the future. He had observed the boy for quite some time now. He hoped that Riddle would be able to graduate without causing any bad things to happen again, and bring fame instead of terror to the wizarding world in the future. After all, he was a potentially smart student, and Dumbledore felt that his talents should not be thrown away just like that. He secretly placed high hopes on the boy, although he did not show it in front of Riddle or mentioned it to anyone else.

At the thought of the Head Boy, Dumbledore's face turned into a sad expression. He let out a long and resigned sigh. For seven years, he had tried everything he could to understand more about the boy. He could not wonder how the boy had managed to pull through all these seven years, as he was always emotionless and without feeling. Dumbledore could not help feeling pity towards the boy sometimes.

He remembered the look on Riddle's face when he first learned that he was a wizard. He had seemed lonely and behaved in a cold manner around other children in the orphanage. The matron, Mrs. Cole, had informed Dumbledore that all the other children there were afraid of Riddle, as he often made weird things happen whenever they annoyed him. Most of them thought that he was some sort of demon who would bewitch their minds and body at any time. Thus, Tom Riddle got a room to himself, and eats and played alone. No one would dare to go near him, or speak to him. Dumbledore had felt a tinge of sadness as he observed Riddle. However, the look he gave Dumbledore when he knew he was a wizard was somehow disturbing. Dumbledore could not help feeling that something was really not right with Riddle. He seemed to be bottling up all of his emotions, and did not show a single trace of it on his youthful face. For several years, Dumbledore had tried as hard as he could to unmask the boy, to find out about his secrets and tried to help him to move on with his life happily. Riddle, on the contrary, seemed to hold a grudge towards him. Dumbledore wondered whether this was because he was the only one who was not wrapped tightly around Riddle's fingers and the only one who could see right through that charming façade put up by the boy.

Indeed Dumbledore had his suspicions about Riddle. He was almost certain that Tom Riddle had something to do with the opening of the Chamber of Secrets. From the first day he met the boy at the orphanage, Dumbledore had been able to see right through him. He had long ago suspected that he was the rightful heir of Salazar Slytherin as the Gaunts seemed to be the final descendants of the particular founder. However, he did not have enough evidence to support his theory, and he intended to do more research before confirming his suspicions. He had no doubt that Riddle had also known about this some time during his school years, if his theory was indeed true. Thus, if this was the case, he was not surprised that Riddle would be able to access the Chamber of Secrets, as it was built by Salazar Slytherin himself and would only be opened by his heir. What he did not expect was Riddle taking away an innocent life. The act was simply evil and uncalled for. He hoped that his suspicions were only his own imaginations and not true at all.

Even though he had his suspicions, Dumbledore could not do anything at all, as he had not been able to gather sufficient evidence to pin it on Riddle. That boy was certainly very cunning indeed. He had cleverly framed Hagrid for the incident, and Dippet, given his character of taking things for granted and his adoration of the boy, had believed every word of it. Of course Dumbledore did not blame Dippet for being so easily fooled. An ordinary person would look at the situation just as Dippet, and Dumbledore daresay that their reasoning would be the same as Dippet's. Tom Riddle had in fact constructed the crime scene cleverly, creating the picture which he desired everyone to see.

Like some other students, Dumbledore himself believed that Hagrid was innocent. After all, the large spider could not have been the monster living in the Chamber of Secrets, he reasoned. Hagrid had told him that he kept the spider from the time when it was young, and Dumbledore believed every word of it. He would not ever believe that Rubeus Hagrid, an animal lover and a friendly student, would commit such an evil act. Thus, he had convinced Dippet to let Hagridb remain in the castle, as the helper of the current Groundskeeper, OG. Dippet had reluctantly agreed, and Hagrid now lived in a hut a few feet away from the castle, with OG. Dumbledore found that he was happy with his current job. He sometimes visited Dumbledore in his office when he had some time off. They would chat about various things over a cup of tea, and Hagrid would always leave the office with a broad smile plastered on his face.

Dumbledore sighed. Riddle was certainly too cunning and clever. Dumbledore had known this the first time when they met. Riddle was a dangerous person too. He had a habit of manipulating others in getting what he wanted, and Dumbledore dared to believe that the death of the Myrtle girl was only a small part of Riddle's master plan. Dumbledore was sure that the boy had more up his sleeves. Everybody else in the school was tightly wrapped around Riddle's fingers, which made his plan easier to carry out. Dumbledore had long since given up hope of unmasking the boy. He gathered that if Tom Riddle wished to be the person he desired, he would simply washed his hands off the boy. After all, he had other more important things to do. Thus, for the past two years, he had taken to ignore Riddle in his classes, and never award him any points if he managed to excel in his classes. He gathered that Riddle was frustrated with this, but he did not care. The boy had already troubled him from the very first day Dumbledore set eyes on him.

"I can talk to snakes. I can make animals obey my command, and I can also make someone who annoys me hurt. I can make things move without touching them. Besides, bad things happened to those who bullied me." The bored drawling voice of the eleven year old dark-haired boy with pale skin haunted Dumbledore's thoughts for the rest of the years to come. Back then, he had seemed calm, and did not comment anything at all. On that particular visit, Dumbledore had also discovered something else about Riddle; the boy did not trust anyone easily. "Prove it," his cold baritone was still clear in Dumbledore's mind, as though it had just been spoken yesterday. This was when Dumbledore informed him that he was a wizard. Riddle seemed not to believe a word about it until Dumbledore showed him some magic. Only then that he believed that Dumbledore was really a wizard, and he had started to get excited. After reading his acceptance letter, his face seemed to show some emotion, but it was quickly wiped off his face just as fast as it had appeared seconds before. Dumbledore pretended not to notice this. After his visit to the orphanage, he had mulled over the problem in his office for a few hours, before shoving the thought to the back of his mind for a while. He had more important matters to attend to at that moment.

When he had the time to think about it, sometimes, Dumbledore wondered what had caused the boy to become so evil and lived the life he lived now. Perhaps it was lack of love that made him like this, Dumbledore thought silently. After all, he was an orphan and had never experienced love before. Nevertheless, there is no harm trying, is there? Why did the boy have to be so difficult and see the world around him with such a narrow perspective? These questions often haunted the old professor's thoughts when he sat by the fireplace during peaceful nights, reminiscing his past life remorsefully. He was afraid that Riddle would become a bad person in the future, just like his pal Grindelwald back then, where he himself had planned to dominate the world along with Grindelwald. Dumbledore now looked back at all of this in disgust.

"Look what had become of this," he scolded himself sometimes, if he could not help it. "The Greater Good indeed."

Grindelwald, after breaking off contact with Dumbledore, had moved on quickly with his plans. He still planned to dominate the world, and the raging war now was one of his plans. Dumbledore could not help feeling remorse, as he had a share of responsibility in these events too. He remembered the old times where he shut himself away in his bedroom during summer breaks, writing letters to Grindelwald and exchanging ideas on world domination with his long ago friend. These memories cut through him like a thousand knives the moment they flooded his mind. The sense of guilt continued to build up in him, trapping him more tightly around an unbreakable wall, where all his past were calling back to him like the whispers of the demons in the dark forest of Albania. He was certain that these thoughts would continue to haunt him until the day he was able to rest in peace forever.

A pang of sadness and guilt always washed over him whenever these memories beckoned to him. If it wasn't for his own selfishness and silly thoughts back then, Ariana would not have died. His relationship with his brother, though quite civil would not be broken and shattered into a million pieces which would never mend itself together again. He was sure of this. His brother loved Ariana with all his heart, and would not forgive him so easily. Subconsciously, he reached up and stroked the bridge of his crooked nose. It had been broken before, when his brother punched him hard in the face during Ariana's funeral. Although the pain had ceased to take effect after he had healed it himself, it had inflicted upon him a deep wound that would remain there for the rest of his life, and he would have to face it until the day Death called out to him. He could not help feeling a bit silly, after realizing that three tiny words could change everything in his life.

The Greater Good.

He grimaced at the sound of those three syllables, ringing out clearly in his head. Dumbledore frowned, and let out another deep sigh. He leaned back in his chair, and massaged his temples. He should think of this later, he reasoned. He still needs to research Merope Granger's alternative method of getting back to her own time now. However, the past seemed to beckon to him to dive into it again now. The thoughts about Riddle and his own past made the old professor sad. He had not yet dare to face his brother after so many years, and the war with his so-called long ago pal was still eating at him. He realized that some day, he would have to defeat Grindelwald, whether he liked it or not. There was really no other way around it, as he was the only one that Grindelwald feared the most.

However, the problem with Tom Riddle would also need to be looked into. He would not have much time left now, he figured. Riddle would be graduating next year, and if Dumbledore had not managed to unmask him and ensure that he would be walking the right path of his life, he figured that he would not get to rest in peace properly. Although he had tried to wash his hands off the boy, he could not bring himself to do it. Guilt was already welling in him every time he ignored the boy in his classes, and pretended not to notice his brilliant performance. Dumbledore could tell that Riddle had known about this, and had planned to play along with him. His actions during that morning's lesson were enough to tell all that was necessary.

"Oh Tom, whatever should I do with you? How can I make you see things from a different perspective?" the old professor sighed, stretching and yawning for the second time now.

Sighing, Dumbledore banished all the books on his table, returning them to their respective places in his private library, which was hidden from the eyes of other students.

"Time travel…" he murmured, "Mixing potions…time travel through mixing potions…"

He screwed up his face in concentration. He was sure that he had heard something like that before, but he could not remember where. The thought of his past life was eating at him more strongly today, and he found that he could not concentrate on other things. Why was that, he wondered. And then, a sudden thought struck him.

"I wonder…" he said, frowning slightly. He gets to his feet, and pulled opened a drawer on the big wooden chest, where Fawkes was perching on. He rummaged in it for quite some time, before pulling out a small box. The small black leather box was dusty and tattered. He opened it, and lifted up the object which had been placed inside it for several years now. He should have thought of this sooner, he gathered. Somehow, he had already guessed that this would be the answer to the girl's problems.

He gazed down on it, and smiled. He now understood why he was so immersed in his past just now. "Thank you, Ariana dear. You reminded me of this. I think I know what to do with Ms. Granger now." And with that, Albus Dumbledore took the box firmly in both hands, and sat down at his desk once more. He held the object in his hands thoughtfully, feeling its cold and smooth surface. He then dropped the object back into the box, and admired its carvings for a while, his blue eyes twinkling madly with excitement.

The object in question was a gold chain, which held a beautiful gold locket. Two bright emerald gems were placed side by side on the locket, gleaming beautifully. The stones felt cold to Dumbledore's touch, and he lifted the locket out of the box again after gazing at it for a long time. He fingered the chain thoughtfully. This was Ariana's necklace, where their mother had bestowed upon her prior to her death. After Ariana's death, Dumbledore had managed to find it neatly tucked away in one of the drawers in Ariana's bedroom. It seemed that his sister had never worn this locket before.

Ever since then, the locket had been in his possession. He doubted that his brother knew about this. He planned to keep it anyway, as this was his last connection with his sister. The locket was hand down from their ancestors; it seemed quite old by the looks of it. He was not sure whether it contained any powers at all, as he had never used it before. In fact, it had not come to his thoughts for quite some time until now.

"Ariana," he whispered, and there was a faint click as the locket opened. In the centre of it, he saw a gleaming pink pearl, and the face of a beautiful woman. The woman was holding the pearl in her left hand, and a wand in another. For many years, Dumbledore thought that the young woman looked familiar, but he had not given much thought to it. The portrait was already there when their mother gave Ariana the locket. He had heard his mother telling Ariana that the locket would only open when the name of the person which it had been bestowed upon was spoken aloud. That was how he managed to open the locket just now.

For several years after the locket was in his possession, he wondered what was it that made the young woman look so familiar. It was a few years back when he had found her real portrait at last, in one of the corridors at Hogwarts. She was known as the Pink Lady, as most of her portrait was pink in colour. However, Dumbledore also known that she was originally known as the Lady of Destiny. Not many people knew about this. Now, as he thought about her, a picture started to form in his head. It all fitted perfectly together. He smiled. He realized now that his earlier conclusions were indeed correct. He squinted more closely at the locket.

"Ms. Granger, I think I know what all this is about," he said, smiling to himself. He turned the locket over, and looked more closely at the Pink Lady, which was offering him one of her dazzling smiles. And then, he noticed something which he had not noticed before this. He blinked, and squinted more closely at the locket. There were some writing engraved on the pearl which the young lady held, and it was not quite visible, as it was so small. Excitedly, Dumbledore dusted off the remaining specks of dust on the locket, and brought out his wand. With an effortless flick, the locket began to grow in size. When it was big enough so that he could read the engravings on the locket, he flicked his wand again, and the locket stop growing in size. He reached for his spectacles, which he had placed on his desk just now, and put them on. Then, he picked up the locket, and squinted at the writing on the pearl.

Engraved in small block letters were the following words:

I OPENED AT THE CLOSE

Dumbledore looked at the words, and a puzzled expression crossed his face. He read the words for a few more times, and shook his head. What was the meaning of this, he wondered. What is the close and when would it come? Was the pearl hidden somewhere in the locket? Question after question flooded his thoughts. He would have to figure this out soon, so that the puzzle would be completed.

Just as Dumbledore was planning to wave the thought aside for the moment, something else caught his eyes. He had not noticed this earlier too, as the locket was quite small. At the top right corner of the locket, there was a small gap, which can be pulled apart. He reached out his hands once more, and tried to pull open the small gap. It immediately parted easily, and there, in the middle of it, was a scroll of parchment, rolled up neatly and tied with a yellow ribbon. Dumbledore peered down at it for a moment, and then he pulled the parchment out of the gap as gently as he could. The paper was crumpled and was beginning to turn yellow. Carefully, he unfolded the paper. With astonishment, he read the following poem, printed in green ink in a neat hand:

When the time has come

All would be right

For the task would be completed

And the flaws will be corrected.

The light would meet the dark

And together they would strive

To achieve what they wanted

Until one party emerged with glory.

The task

Though easy as it seemed

May have to be achieved through a different method

For not all battles are fought the hard way.

The right path taken

Should correct the said flaws

And through time we will know

Whether the desired destiny had been achieved.

Where blood is shed and life is taken

Shattering lives and future plans to pieces

Sadness and fright enveloped the place

And one is sent back to try turn things around.

Revenge is sweet and vengeance is venomous

But above all, the strongest emotion still lies

Waiting to be explored;

Where trust is essential and friendship is built

And truths are discovered and unleashed

Love would then unfold

And bond the light and the dark together  
it is only then that The task would be completed.

As time proceeds

It remained to be seen

Whether the said task should be completed;

If the task is completed indeed

Then all will be good

And the present would be restored; the past left behind

And the flaws will be corrected.

For love would speak all it is needed

To shape the desired destiny.

If the task was not completed

Then the future remained what it is; for time is limited

And events would played out

Just as what the timeline had intended.

However, if it was necessary

A different path can be taken

Where the light turns to the dark

To achieve what they desired

To plot revenge and shed blood  
and the flaws would be corrected.

When the time is appropriate

Someone with the desired destiny would be sent

By the Draught of Destiny

If correctly brewed and properly consumed

To correct particular flaws

And to that person the task is bestowed upon.

The two roads lay open

To be chosen by him or her

For their choice will make a great difference

And brought victory or disaster.

And thus, Careful choice is most necessary

Planning is essential

Before the task is completed

To achieve the desired destiny.

H.K. McKenna

Dumbledore was getting more and more puzzled. He reread the poem for a few more times. What was the meaning of all this?

He had already had enough on his mind now. He had to think about how to end the sufferings of the wizarding world, by planning how to approach Grindelwald. And then, there was the problem of Tom Riddle, which he wished to changed; Merope Granger who has traveled back in time, desperately awaiting his help; and now this was found in his sister's locket. Dumbledore let out a tired sigh, and started to pace about in his office.

And then, it all suddenly made sense. The realization hit him at last, and he clapped his hands together. He had finally understood how all of this fitted together easily at last.

Throughout the years he had taken the locket from Ariana's room, he had tried to trace its background, and his research was not fruitless at all. He managed to trace it back to the descendants of Harperlindo McKenna, who was the greatest potions' master of the 16th century. It turned out that his great-grandmother, who was a cousin to McKenna, had inherited the locket, and it had been passed down his family line since then. Dumbledore had researched about Harperlindo McKenna, and he was sad to find nothing much interesting about him, save some theory about mixing a few potions together, creating something known as the Draught of Destiny. According to McKenna, this draught would help someone travel back in time, and correct the flaws in the timeline. The effects of normal time traveling would also be negated. However, McKenna's work was never published, and Dumbledore doubted that he ever wrote anything at all. Of course, he had not given it much thought since then. Now, however he had finally figured something out.

Merope Granger was the person who had been sent back here by McKenna. In fact, Dumbledore gathered that she had brewed and consumed the Draught of Destiny without knowing it. She had been sent here to correct a certain flaw, and Dumbledore still wondered what it was. Perhaps there was something so terrible in the future that needs to be corrected, in order to shape a brighter future for everyone. What was it that the girl had told him when he asked her about it a few days ago?

"The war was terrible. It had brought many sufferings to all of us, as innocent lives were lost," she had said, tears welling up in her hazel brown eyes. "He destroyed everything we all loved, and his followers were merciless. There was blood everywhere, and the school was in ruins. People were tortured, some others went missing and threats were posted everyday. It was so terrible, professor."

The girl's words sink into Dumbledore more meaningfully than before. Of course, her task was to prevent the war from happening. He wondered whether this was still the war with Grindelwald that they were talking about. He would ask the girl later when they meet on Friday to discuss what they had discovered. If this was indeed the case, Dumbledore reasoned that he would have to act fast, and help the girl to complete her task by stopping the war. He would not let Grindelwald gain power and dominate the world. He would have to settle this once and for all, for himself, for Ariana and for the Greater Good, though the last seemed to disgust him.

Dumbledore tapped his spectacles on his desk thoughtfully. After brushing a final speck of dust from the lenses, he put the spectacles on again.

Another thought entered his head. Could this have nothing to do at all with Grindelwald? After all, how cans Merope Granger made Grindelwald experienced love? Grindelwald had already had a wife, and he was capable of loving somebody, from what he had gathered. Could this be a totally different scenario that they were talking about? He furrowed his brows in concentration, and something else suddenly struck him. Tom riddles.

The smile on his face broadened. He knew it at last. This had nothing to do at all with Grindelwald, he decided. It had something to do with Riddle, and Dumbledore just knew what it was all about.

Placing his hands on his temples, Dumbledore pushed away all thoughts of Riddle from his mind for now. He would deal with the problem of the boy later, as he had to first device a plan for the girl. Now, he must figure out how to help Merope Granger. He reasoned that he should pass the locket to her. She was now the rightful owner of it now, as the parchment suggested. He hoped that it would be able to help her in her task, although he was not quite sure about it himself. He blessed himself of having to discover this now before it was too late. He had pulled out the locket out of his own instincts, and it had indeed paid off well. He was at least able to find out something useful for the girl and also for his own interest. Soon, something exciting would happen, he decided, and he was going to make sure that all of it plays out well, as he had planned. Tom Riddle would be unmasked, for someone would help him to experience an emotion which he had never had before in his entire life. He would not rise to become that terrible dark wizard during the girl's time [Dumbledore's own suspicions only]. However, he was not sure whether this was the case. He would have to ask the girl about it later.

Sighing again, Dumbledore picked up the locket, shrink it to its original size, and placed it back into the tattered black box. He took out a piece of parchment and a quill, and started to write a letter.

After finishing it, he sealed the letter tightly, and placed it inside the tattered box. He than flicked his wand once and the box was now wrapped nicely in brown paper.

"Fawkes, come here," he whistled, and the dozing phoenix immediately flew down from his perch on the top shelf.

"Take it to the Heads' Dorms, will you? Put it under Ms. Granger's covers, and make sure nobody noticed you."

The phoenix gave him an understanding look, and extended his legs for Dumbledore to tie the parcel which he had just wrapped in brown paper. Dumbledore smiled, and patted the bird, before looping a thread around its leg, and tying the parcel to it.

"Off you go," he said, and Fawkes flew out of the open window, in the direction of the seventh floor towers.

He walked to his desk, and sat down heavily once more on the armchair which he had vacated earlier. Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes. He placed the tips of his fingers together and began to turn over possibilities in his mind. He would have to do more in depth research, it seemed, as the books in his private library do not help much. There was no mention of other alternative methods of time travel, other than the normal way, i.e. using a time turner. He would have to research it using other outside resources, he gathered. He would also have to find more about Harperlindo McKenna's Draught of Destiny.

Dumbledore was just starting to summon another stack of books from another shelf which he had not browsed through yet, when he heard running footsteps outside the corridor. At first, he thought that it was probably some students running about after the lessons have ended. However, the footsteps eventually grew louder and louder, and he heard panicked voices screaming as the footsteps thundered passed his office, fading away in the other corridors. He wondered what had caused the commotion. Curiously, he got to his feet, and started to approach the door to his office.

He had just put his hand on the doorknob when there was a quick and loud knock on the door.

"Come in," Dumbledore said, quickly stepping back, and opening the door. His eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw Minerva McGonagall and Charles Potter standing outside his door, with scared expressions plastered on their faces. They looked tired from running, and were panting slightly. Minerva gasped for breath, before managing to choke out, "Professor, come with us. Quick."

Potter was in no better condition. His jet black hair was messier than ever, as though he had just been blown away by a strong gust of wind, and his eyes were betraying terror. His face was as pale as Minerva's, and he was tugging on Minerva's sleeves frantically, leading her away from the corridor.

"Charles, get a grip on yourself. Can you please let go of my sleeves now? You're tugging on it too hard," Minerva said, slapping his hands away, and giving Dumbledore a worry look.

"Ms. McGonagall, do you mind telling me what happened?" Dumbledore interrupted before Charles was able to open his mouth to protest. Dumbledore eyed both of the students curiously through his half-moon spectacles, and gave them a questioning look.

"Merope…" Charles started to say, still panting from running so hard just now.

"What about Ms. Granger?" Dumbledore asked, beginning to feel uncomfortable. He hoped that nothing terrible had happened to the girl.

"Professor, can you please come with us?" McGonagall's voice was more frantic than before. "We'll explain on the way to the classroom."

"Quick! There's no time to spare! She's already turning white when we left, Mini!" Charles started to run ahead of them, panting loudly as he stormed hurriedly across the corridors.

Minerva turned, and started to run after Charles.

Still puzzled, Dumbledore started to follow them down the corridor. "Alright. What is the problem, Ms. McGonagall?" he inquired, after they had walked for a few more minutes in silence. By now, the corridor was deserted and quiet.

Charles started to explain the situation to Dumbledore. Dumbledore listened and grew tense as the story developed. Riddle, it seemed, had performed the unforgivable curses in front of the whole class, as Professor Merrythought had asked him to replace her class for the day. Merope Granger had lounged out to protect a spider ["and it's just a spider after all. I don't know why she's so frantic…"], was what Charles told him. After finishing the story, Charles finally took a deep breath and sighed. They had now reached the DADA classroom on the fifth floor corridor.

Dumbledore sighed. He was sure that something like this is bound to happen. Anger was welling up in him. How could Riddle possibly do this again? He would have to confront him later, Dumbledore decided, together with Dippet and Professor Merrythought. He was not prepared to let Tom Riddle harm another innocent student, especially when she was just a time traveler; the consequences would be unknown and he would not dare to face it himself, as he did not know what McKenna theory was like yet.

Dumbledore looked around him. The corridor was now deserted. All the other students had fled in hurry just now, Minerva informed him. Rubbish were scattered everywhere, as dustbins were knocked down by the students in their hurry to get out of the place.

"Where's the Head Boy?" he inquired.

"No idea. I bet he's in the Headmaster's office. Alphard Black tried to drag him there just now, but Riddle had told him off and shouldered his way pass the crowd just now. He looked like he's going to faint any time. Professor, I suppose he panicked after seeing what he had done," Charles said, with a disgusted tone. Minerva gave his shoulders a gentle nudge.

"What? I'm telling Professor Dumbledore…" Charles started.

"Shhh!" Minerva said, "I think we can deal with Riddle later."

"But Mini…"

"Hush, Charles," Minerva said, turning to Dumbledore. "Professor…"

"Never mind about that for now. I'll take care of him later," Dumbledore said, smiling at both students. "Ms. Granger required my attention for now."

With another long sigh, Dumbledore stepped into the classroom, and began to approach the limp figure sprawled on the cold stone floor. The girl lay still on the ground, with her eyes closed. Her bushy brown curls were all tangled up, and gathered in a heap on the floor. Her face was pale, as all blood and colour had drained from it. Her breathing was shallow and irregular.

Cautiously, Dumbledore lowered himself onto the ground beside her, and crouched down. He took her hands in his, and feels for a pulse. Her skin was icy cold, and had turned pale. Dumbledore's smile returned when he was able to sense a faint throbbing in her veins. He bent down and pushed a few locks of brown curls away from her face. Cold sweat was still trickling down her forehead. Dumbledore took out an orange handkerchief from his robe pocket, and wiped it away. He took out his wand, and began to wave it in a complicated pattern around her body while muttering a string of spells under his breath.

He traced her forehead with his wand in a circular motion, and continued to chant the same spells which he had uttered before. Colour was beginning to return to her face after a few more minutes, and her breathing was returning to normal again. The pale tinge on her skin had begun to regain colour again.

With a final flick of his wand, Dumbledore straightened up, and dusted off some speck of dust from his purple robes. Then, he turned to the classroom, and waved his wand once. The messy classroom was immediately as neat as before.

Dumbledore pocketed his wand, and turned to the two students who were still there, whispering softly to one another.

"Is she alright, professor?" Charles Potter asked, with hope in his voice.

"Yes, she'll be alright in a couple of hours. Can both of you take her to Madam McCarthy at the hospital wing? Ask the matron to give her some potions which she thought necessary."

"No problem, professor," Charles said, walking towards the still unconscious form of the Head Girl. Minerva walked closely behind him. With a flick of their wands, they levitated the body out of the classroom.

"Thank you," Dumbledore said quietly to both of them. He then walked out of the classroom himself, and closed the door quietly behind him. He then headed straight to the Headmaster's office.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tom sat on the couch in the commonroom, deep in thought. He had just returned from the Headmaster's office.

He took a deep breath, and leaned back on the soft leather. What was the problem with the Head Girl, he wondered frustrated. She was behaving more and more funny as the days passed.

He had seen the disgusted look on her face when he announced that he would be conducting the class for the day. He pretended not to notice it, as he had gotten used to it by now. The disgusted look on her face remained there for the rest of the lesson.

Then, when he started to talk about unforgivable curses, she seemed to turn pale. He reasoned that she was shaken by the experience last night. He felt secretly proud and happy about this; at least he still had some effect on the girl. He decided that he would have fun watching her expression when he performed the curses later. He chuckled softly to himself, before briskly turning to face the class and began the lesson.

Most of the students save Granger and a few others cheered when he finished the Imperius curse. Some of the Gryfindor students even gave him thumbs-up. However, the three students at the front row seemed unenthusiastic at all. McGonagall and Potter had turned white, and that good-for-nothing Brown girl was giggling stupidly. Tom cringed inwardly with disgust. These were stupid students, in his opinion. They were ignorant and weak and could not stand even the most harmless unforgivable curse. He scoffed inwardly.

When he performed the Cruciatus curse, Granger merely clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. Tom did not bother at all. The girl was probably angry at him, for throwing the curse at her yesterday. Tom did not give a damn at all. As long as he was concerned, he did not care whether the girl liked it or not. This was his school, and people living under the same roof with him would have to obey him. He would not tolerate any fight or disagreement over what he had planned. If the girl was unhappy about certain things, she can sulk and clench her fists all she liked; he would not stop her. He figured that she would not dare try anything funny with him at all, after his warning. In fact, he was planning to teach her another lesson again tonight, wasn't he? He was just going to tolerate her for just a bit more. Then, all would be over and end well. He would have his Head Boy rules and ways, and she would not dare to cross him.

He concentrated on what he was saying hard. The students were now scared. He tried to put up a façade, pretending that he regretted his actions dearly. His insides were bubbling with glee and pleasure; torture and killing was simply so fun. Suddenly, Merope Granger laughed. He looked up, and saw her laughing softly, but the cackling laughter grew slightly louder a few seconds later. McGonagall and Potter just stared at her, and whispered something into the girl's ears. The girl immediately tensed, and quickly whispered something back to both of them. She immediately covered her mouth in embarrassment, but Tom could tell that she was trying her best to hide something from her friends. He would have to remember to force it out of her during the session tonight.

Finally, he lifted his wand to perform the killing curse on the spider. He could not wait any longer; excitement overtook him. After pretending to be remorseful for the second time, so that the rest of the class would believe that he really was regretting his actions, he lifted his wand.

And then, the Potter boy, of all people stood up and confronted him. Anger was welling up in him, and Tom tried as best as he can to control his magic, which was crackling around him dangerously again. With great effort, he managed to control his voice, and told Potter straight off. Potter seemed taken aback, and Tom was pleased with this. He ordered the boy to return to his seat, and the boy did so without any further comments. Riddle could tell that Potter was angry, but he did not care at all. He was in control now, and he would manipulate this opportunity the best as he can to gain what he wanted.

"Avada kedavra!" the two favourite words left his mouth without hesitation, and he flicked his wand lazily.

The jet of green light started to move towards the spider, and he watched it with pleasure.

"Stop it!" the scream made him jump. "No!"

He looked around, and saw Merope Granger, springing up from her seat. Things happened quickly after that. The classroom were filled with horrified screams, as the girl lounged forward, and tried to grab the spider away from the desk.

For a moment, Tom just stood there, shocked. Why would the girl behave in such a way? After all, it was just a stupid spider, and those were disgusting little creatures, in Tom's opinion. The girl groped around until her hands reached the spider. Tom watched from the corner of his eyes as she clenched her fists tightly over the spider's body and started to draw away. The jet of green light was moving towards her now.

"Good," Tom thought, "I can kill two birds with one stone, it seemed. I can eliminate that stupid girl once and for all, and pretend that this was an accident. No one would suspect a thing. After all, she lounged forward herself, and no one can stop her."

From behind him, he heard Potter screamed, and leapt up from his seat. McGonagall pulled him away firmly by his collar, and Potter started to protest. Tom took another look at them, before turning back to face the girl.

It seemed that she had just realized what was going to happen next. Tom expected that she would scream and try to dodge the curse, but surprisingly, she just stand there, closing her eyes. Why was she behaving like this, he asked himself again. Was she willingly to die just like that, without any struggle at all?

He looked into her eyes, which were now closed tightly. She started to relax, he noted and her body began to fall forward. The jet of green light was just inches away from her back.

Suddenly, without knowing what he was doing, Tom quickly reached out, grabbed the girl's waist, and pulled her away from the path of the jet of green light. The girl did not seem to notice anything at all. A loud blast sounded, as the curse impacted with the teacher's desk. The desk shattered into pieces, and more screams can be heard. Students were beginning to flee the classroom, pushing hurriedly out of the door, and bumping into each other. They murmured quick apologies to each other, before hurrying away from the classroom. Their voices faded as they rounded the next corner, and headed down the opposite corridor.

Tom stood there, transfixed. He was still holding on to the girl's waist. She was beginning to tremble. Why had he acted that way, he asked himself furiously. What had caused him to do it? Wasn't he planning to finish off the girl once and for all?

He was beginning to get angry now. He stared at the girl. She had opened her eyes, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. She unclenched her fist, and gazed down at the spider, which was trying to crawl away as best as it could. She managed to smile weakly before throwing the spider onto the floor gently. The spider, free from her grasp, crawled away and disappeared under one of the desks.

A disgusted look crossed Tom's face. He still could not understand why the girl had willing to throw her life away, just for a good-for-nothing spider. At the same time, he mulled over what he had just done. He tried to think of a logical explanation for his action just now.

"I'll want to maintain my good Head Boy reputation, wouldn't I? Saving her would be a great cover story to tell Dippet. After all, all the other students were here, and I just can't simply let her die right here."

Satisfied with this reason, which he thought was the most probable and logical explanation for his action just now, he smirked. No one would even suspect him of anything now.

Suddenly, pain shot through his muscles again. He quickly let go of the girl's waist, and clutched his side. His heart was beating quickly now, and his ribs were starting to throb painfully. His whole body felt as though he was on fire, and Tom doubled over. Perspiration was beginning to form on his forehead. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists tightly. He managed to take a few gulps of breath, before the tightness of his chest begins to take effect. He couched for a few times, and closed his eyes. His breathing was becoming shallow and ragged.

"Oi Riddle!"

Trying as best as he can, he opened his eyes, and looked up quickly. Alphard Black was standing behind him, with his fists clenched.

"Aarrrgh!" he managed to grunt softly.

"Riddle, what's up with you? Get up this instant!" Black's voice boomed. Tom was beginning to get angry. How dare this boy take that tone with him? He admitted that he did not like Black much, as he was different from the others. That was why he never included Black as one of his followers; he did not want to take the risk. He found that Black was not trustworthy at all, and did not seem to behave like a proper Slytherin pureblood. Unlike Malfoy, he was never one to brag about his bloodline and his family's wealth.

The pain in his body had ceased slightly now, and Tom managed to push himself up from the ground.

"What do you want, Black?" he asked, trying to regain the strength he usually had in his voice. He would not allow Black to detect any weakness in him now. He looked around the classroom. It was deserted, save for the limp form of a certain brunette, sprawled on the ground. When had she passed out, Tom wondered. He had not noticed it at all. Perhaps she passed out during his seizure just now, he decided.

"What are you doing on the ground just now? Are you trying to find that spider and kill it?" Black asked, his blue eyes glaring daggers at Tom.

"Black, I advised that you do not take this tone with me, as I'm the Head Boy here. I can give you detention any time, and I'll have no trouble persuading one of the professors about it. As for what I was doing just now, it was none of your business."

"Oh? How about going to Dippet's office with me? After all, the recent incident would need to be explained. We'll see who gets the detention first, shall we?" Black smirked, and started to grab Tom's collar.

Before he managed to touch him, Tom grabbed the boy's arm, and turned him around. He pushed the boy hard, and shouldered past the remaining students, who had returned to collect their bags, which they had left just now in their hurry.

"I'll be glad to handle this myself, Mr. Black. There is no need for you to tell the Head Boy what to do," he managed to force out. Black tried to chase after him, but was stopped by another fellow Slytherin.

Tom stormed out of the classroom, after taking a last look at the brunette on the floor. Her face had turned pale, and her hair was messier than before and plastered to her forehead. Some locks of it had fallen onto her face, and her eyes were tightly shut together. A sudden pang of regret washed over him. He felt sorry for what he had done to the girl. However, as quickly as it came, the feeling of guilt disappeared. What was he thinking all day? He could not go on like this for the rest of the year. He would have to shut all thoughts of the girl away from his mind. He could not let her haunt his thoughts for the rest of the school year.

Clenching his fists and gritting his teeth to control the pain which was now beginning again in his sides, he quickly walked out of the classroom. Heb walked briskly until he reached a deserted corridor. There, he leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes. He waited for the pain to come again, and this time he would be more prepared for it. However, it never came. The throbbing at his sides had ceased, and his body was slowly regaining strength again.

After resting for a couple of minutes more, he straightened up, and started to walk away. Just as he was turning the corner leading to the staircases, a firm hand was placed on his shoulders. He turned around, and found a pair of twinkling blue eyes staring straight at him. Abruptly, he averted his gaze, for fear that the old codger would suddenly use legilimency to attack his thoughts and found out about his emotions.

"Good afternoon Tom," Dumbledore said in a pleasant voice.

"Good afternoon professor," he replied in a slightly clipped tone.

"I believed that we need to discuss something right away, Tom. May you be so kind as to follow me to Headmaster Dippet's office? Professor Slughorn is already waiting there." Dumbledore offered him a half smile, before turning and walking in the opposite direction.

"Of course, professor. As Head Boy, I'm obliged to give my explanations to Headmaster Dippet and my Head of House for the incident that occurred just now. In fact, I was heading there myself when you cornered me just now." He forced this out in a voice which he hoped was not too annoying. After all, the old codger always irritated him, and he was not prepared to endure another round of it for now.

"Very well then. Follow me." Dumbledore led the way to the Headmaster's office with Tom trailing behind him. They did not say another word to each other on the way.

When they stepped onto the landing after climbing up the spiraling staircase, Dumbledore knocked on the door of Dippet's office, his strict expression which he had plastered on his face earlier never disappearing.

"Enter," Tom could hear Dippet's voice from within.

Dumbledore pushed open the door, and stepped aside.

"After you, Tom," he said.

Tom stepped past Dumbledore, and entered Dippet's office. Dippet was sitting behind his desk as usual, his face slightly pale. Slughorn sat opposite him, tapping his fingers on the big mahogany desk agitatedly.

"Ah, Albus. I see you've brought our Head Boy along too. Come in, come in. Sit down, Tom," Dippet said. Tom could sense the slightest note of disapproval in Dippet's voice. He walked to the desk, and pulled out a chair beside Slughorn. He sank down on the seat and leaned back in the chair, looking straight ahead of him. He would not give Dumbledore the satisfaction he had wished for, he decided. He doubted that Dippet would be suspicious about him, as he had already had a plan formulated in his head. He knows just how to pull the ropes, and he was just going to do that now.

"Ah, Tom. I hope you know what the purpose of coming here is," Dippet started after clearing his throat. Dumbledore had stepped into the room, and closed the door quietly behind him. He stood beside Slughorn, eyeing Tom with a quizzical look.

"Yes, professor," Tom started to said, trying to sound regretful.

"I think that a little explanation is needed here, m'boy," Slughorn prompted. "Perhaps there is some misunderstanding, eh? After all, I dare not believe that you would do such a thing, m'boy."

"I'm sorry, professor. I only did what was asked of me. Professor Merrythought had given me instructions to conduct the class for this week, as she cannot make it back to Hogwarts yet." He pulled out the slip of blue parchment from his pocket, and placed it on the desk.

"Ah, yes," Dippet said, "I remembered Merrythought telling me about it. I've approve her request after pondering about it. She said that it was just for once, and I personally thought it would be a good idea, exposing the students to a bit of dark magic, given the current situation."

"Merrythought asked you permission to teach the unforgivables to seventh year students, Armando?" Dumbledore asked, his eyebrows slightly rose.

"Yes indeed, Albus. I thought that it would be best for the school. I do not know that it would turn out so badly," he said, sighing.

"I wasn't expecting this either, sir. I felt uncomfortable myself when performing those curses. All of this is uncalled for, sir. However, I do not wish to let Professor Merrythought down. After all, she had high hopes on me," Tom started, emphasizing the regret in his tone of voice as best as possible.

"I understand, Tom," Dippet said, "And I daresay that Ms. Granger, our Head Girl, was not thinking straight when she acted so rashly just now. After all, she had been through a lot. The war had no doubt impacted greatly with her life." Dippet's eyes clouded over with sadness.

"I really did not expect she would go all out just for a spider, sir. I really have no desire to harm her at all. In fact, I was lucky that I managed to pull her away just in time before the killing curse hit her," Tom said, trying to fake a half smile.

"Oh Tom, m'boy," Slughorn said, "I'm glad and proud of your actions just now. You did the right thing. I believed that you do not have the intention to harm other students, isn't that it, Albus?"

Tom watched the old codger from the corner of his eyes. If he was offended, Dumbledore did not show it. He merely winked at Tom, before turning to Dippet.

"Armando, I must say that we cannot leave matters as such. After all, Tom must be partly responsible for his misconduct. If matters were leave as such, I'm afraid other students would take this lightly," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps they would have more daring plans, and I'm afraid that the school…"

"Oh Albus, come off it. Why do you always seemed so keen on this matter? Tom already admitted that he was in the wrong. We can just leave matters at it is now, couldn't we?" Slughorn cut in quickly before Dumbledore was able to finish his sentence.

"Yeah, I agreed with Horace. Albus, I know you're considerate in thinking about other students. I'm sure Tom here is very sorry for his actions indeed. I'm sure that nothing like this would ever happen again. I'll have a word with Merrythought when she returned from the Auras' Office later," Dippet said.

"I'm really sorry for my conduct just now, sir. I'm ready to receive any form of detention as it pleases you," Tom said, directing the last sentence towards Dumbledore.

"Oh Tom, M'boy. Relax. Nothing would happen again. You'll not be blamed for this," Slughorn said, giving his shoulders a light pat.

"Yes, there's no need to worry, Tom. And now, as this is settled," Dippet said, beginning to shuffle papers around on his desk, "I better be off. I've a meeting with the Ministry of Magic in thirty minutes. Albus, will you kindly keep an eye on Ms. Granger and ensure that she is all right?"

"Certainly, Armando. As Head of Gryfindor house, I'm obliged to take the welfare of all my house members into account," Dumbledore said. "She's currently in the hospital wing. I've monitored her just now, and she was in no critical condition. Madam McCarthy is currently attending to her."

"Good," Dippet said, getting up from his seat, and heading to the back of his office. "In that case, I'll ask all of you to excuse me. I've to get ready for my meeting with the Ministry now."

"Good day to you, Armando," Dumbledore said, walking towards the door. Slughorn followed behind him.

Trying as best as he could to hide his trademark smirk, Tom pushed himself up from the chair, and turned around to leave too.

"Good day, sir," he called out to Dippet, who merely grunted in response from the back of the office.

"After you, Tom," Dumbledore said, holding the door open for him. Tom immediately crossed the threshold and stepped onto the spiraling staircase. After emerging into the corridor again, he turned, gave Dumbledore a half smile, and started to walk away.

"Good day to you, professor," he said. Slughorn had already walked away towards his office by now. Dumbledore just give him another look before turning away.

Tom stretched on the couch. The meeting had ended well, as he had expected. There was not a single smear on his reputation after all. He would deal with the problem of the girl later, he decided.

Tiredness overtook him suddenly. All the events of the day had definitely tired him out. He could not help wondering whether his latest condition had taken a tow on him. To top this off, he still did not know what had caused his second seizure just now. He had no time to find out about it yet. He reasoned that a trip to the hospital wing would be necessary. He could secretly ask Madam McCarthy about that kind of pain, without mentioning that he had suffered it himself. She would easily believe him, given their close relationship. In fact, she often called him her assistant, as he knew a lot about healing, and was creative enough to create some new recipes, which he would share with her sometimes.

With this thought in mind, he smirked satisfactorily, and he sprawled out on the couch. He was going to take a nap, he decided. The pain in his muscles had ceased, but he still feels exhausted. He closed his eyes, and immediately drifted off to sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"How's she doing?"

"Oh, she's just fine. I've just given her another doze of dreamless sleep potion and calming potion. I'm sure she's being fine in the morning."

"Can we stay here, Madam McCarthy?"

"I don't think that is advisable, Mr. Black. Ms. Granger needs to rest well. Perhaps you can come back later, when she wakes up."

"Yeah, let's go to the Quidditch pitch to practice for just a bit, Alphard. We can come back later."

"Charles, I don't think…"

"Oh come off it, Mini. I know you don't have a soft spot for Quidditch. I'll not bother to bring you along, in case you're wondering."

"Charles Potter…"

"Shhh! That's enough. She needs her rest. Please don't raise your voices in here, Ms. McGonagall and Mr. Potter."

"Sorry, Madam McCarthy."

"Let's go, Charles."

Hermione moaned softly, and stirred. The voices which she had heard earlier were beginning to grow more and more distant. She moaned again, and tried to move.

She blinked, and opened her eyes. The first thing she noticed was the whitewashed walls of the hospital wing, and the neatly made up beds, which were arranged neatly in a row, as usual. She grunted, and pushed herself up into a sitting position.

"Oh, you're awake," the smiling Madam McCarthy approached her bed, pushing a trolley, which holds various potions.

Hermione gave the matron a warm smile, before slowly leaning on the bedpost. She flicked away a few locks of hair which had fallen into her eyes.

"How are you feeling, dear?" the matron asked, starting to perform a body check on Hermione. She scribbled away on her clipboard, and ticked off certain details listed on the piece of parchment pinned on it.

"Better," Hermione said her throat slightly dry. The events of the past hour flashed back before her vision. She remembered lounging forward to grab the spider before the killing curse hit it, and she also remembered someone pulling her away from the curse.

The last thing she remembered before passing out was the strong pair of arms holding her let go quite suddenly, which had caused her to stagger a few steps forward before collapsing on the floor. She now wondered who that was. Could it be Charles? No, she reasoned, as she had seen Minerva pull Charles away when he tried to lunge forward to pull her away. Perhaps it was Alphard, Hermione decided. She would ask him later, she gathered.

For a fleeting moment, she felt stupid. Why must she act in that manner around Riddle? After all, it was only a spider; she had seen worse during her time. "It must be the stress and having to live through the past again," she murmured softly to herself, as the matron was busy examining her.

"Take care of yourself, my dear. I believe that you're too stressing up, with all the studying and stuff like that. Furthermore, you've to live through the war. I understand how it is, my dear," Madam McCarthy said, placing a gentle hand on Hermione's shoulders and giving them a light squeeze.

"Yeah, I know," Hermione said, "thank you for your concern, Madam McCarthy."

"Now, enough of this, my dear. You'll drink this and go straight to bed. After all, you still need your rest. I'll tell your friends to come back later if they come around soon. Maybe they can see you tomorrow instead."

"Oh no," Hermione started to protest. She would like to see Minerva, Charles and Alphard straightaway. She was curious to find out what had happened after she had passed out. Most important of all, she wanted to know how that bloody psycho had reacted.

At the thought of Riddle, shudders ran down her spine. She was still not prepared to face that bloody psycho. He would definitely curse her again, to get the truth out of her, after her reaction in his class today. She had no doubt embarrassed him in front of the other students, and knowing him, Hermione doubt he would take it lightly. She would definitely have to pay the price for what she had caused him today.

"Nonsense. You need your rest. Professor Dumbledore had asked me to take good care of you, and I'm obliged to do that. Now, drink this and take a rest, my dear," Madam McCarthy held out a goblet full of a clear liquid towards Hermione.

Hermione took the goblet from the matron, and looked into it once more before putting it to her lips. The potion was sweet and tempting, and she gulped it down quickly. The bittersweet taste still lingered on her tongue for a few seconds after that.

"Nice, isn't it?" Madam McCarthy asked.

Hermione nodded, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "What is it? I've never tasted anything like this before? It's…it's…oh, it's just wonderful!"

"Ah, my dear. This is one of our greatest inventions. It's a mixture of the dreamless sleep potion and calming potion. We've just perfected it last summer. In fact, this was what I gave you yesterday," the matron said, smiling at Hermione and taking the empty goblet from her hands.

"Oh, I see. I haven't tried it yet. I'm too occupied and too tired yesterday. I never had any nightmares at all," she lied quickly. She had not have the chance to try it, as that psycho had crucio-ed her yesterday, and she was in no condition to move about yesterday, as the pain in her muscles was unbearable.

The matron looked at her, and smiled. As Hermione was too curious, she could not help asking the matron another question which had been nagging her thoughts for a long time. She wondered whether the matron would tell her about it, but she decided to give it a try.

The matron had repeatedly talked very highly of her partner, who had helped her to create more new recipes. Hermione wondered who that person was. Perhaps she can ask the matron about the theory of mixing potions, as it would no doubt help her understand more about McKenna's theory. At that thought, Hermione's jaw dropped. She had not yet read McKenna's journal and the three books which she had duplicated from Riddle earlier. She would have to hurry, before the time was up and before that psycho discovered that she had stolen the journal without his knowledge.

Pushing this thought to the back of her mind for now, Hermione mustered all her courage, and faced Madam McCarthy, who was now busy arranging various potions on the shelves opposite her bed.

"Err…Madam McCarthy?" she started timidly.

"Yes, my dear?" the matron turned and looked at Hermione, giving her another bright smile.

"I was just wondering…err…you could tell me about your partner. You know, you said that you've work out all of this with another partner of yours. I was just wondering…"

"Ah," the matron's face immediately lit up, and Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Indeed, he is a charming young man, my partner."

"Oh?" Hermione said.

"I believed that you've already met him," the matron continued.

"Huh?" Hermione could not hide the surprise note in her voice.

"How do you find our Head Boy, Merope dear?"

"Riddle?" Hermione asked. Why the matron had steered the conversation towards this direction, she wondered. And then, realization hit her. She tries to hide her surprise and disgust at the same time.

"Are you telling me that your partner is none other than Tom Riddle, the Head Boy?" Hermione managed to choke out.

"Ah, yes indeed. Charming, isn't he? He has a lot of brains too. All of the new recipes were his inventions. I merely helped him to mix them. Sometimes I contributed my own ideas too," said Madam McCarthy.

Hermione's insides cringed with disgust. Tom Riddle had not only managed to wrap his fingers around all the other professors in the school, but he had also managed to have an influence over the matron of the hospital wing. No wonder the school did not suspect him for the injuries of the students mentioned by Alphard in the library yesterday; they would not believe that he was such a bad person after what he had done.

Hermione quickly masked her disgusted look with a half smile at the matron. She quickly made a mental note to throw away the dreamless sleep potion which she had obtained earlier from the matron. She was not going to use it, if it was made by that psycho although she doubted that he would dare to slip any poison in them. She would not consume anything related to him at all, she decided.

"Yes, he is quite charming. I find him a very responsible person too," Hermione quickly said, trying as best as she could to hide the disgust in her voice.

The matron smiled at her. "So, I see that both of you got along quite well? I wonder…" There was a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Hermione, realizing where the matron was heading, quickly faked a yawn and stretched.

"Oh, I see you're tired, my dear. Forgive me; I should not have talked so much. Now, lie down, and rest well."

Hermione quickly lie down on the bed. The potion was very good indeed, she admitted reluctantly. It was beginning to take effect as her nerves were getting calm again, and she felt warm and drowsy. The matron tucked the covers up to Hermione's chin, and patted her on the shoulders gently. Then, she pulled the curtains shut around the bed, and started to walk away towards her office.

Hermione pulled the covers around her more tightly, and let out a long sigh. She settled herself more comfortably on the bed, and dosed off to sleep.

When Tom opened his eyes, it was already beginning to get dark outside. The cold autumn wind was still blowing in through the window, and Tom shivered. He must have overslept again, he gathered. He could not help wondering why he often felt so tired for the past few days. Perhaps he had more things on his mind now, he reasoned. He had to figure out how to tackle his other counter part, how to make more hocuses and how to maintain his good reputation around the whole school. Besides, he also needed to do some research on his current state of health, as he still could not explain what had caused his seizure.

He looked out of the window thoughtfully. The evening sky was so peaceful to look at. Soon, there would be stars when night falls. He loved the beauty of nature very much. At times, he would stay up late into the night, gazing into the night sky and let his thoughts wander on their own accord. This helped him to clear his thoughts sometimes.

Tom yawned, and sat up. He had missed dinner again, he noted. He sighed inwardly. He would have to go to the kitchens to get some food again tonight, if he feels up to it. He was not very hungry now, he decided.

Remembering what he had planned to do earlier, he get up from the couch and headed for the room upstairs. After taking a quick shower, and putting on fresh clothes, he headed out of the commonroom.

He headed down the quiet corridors towards the hospital wing. The door was slightly ajar, and he could hear voices from inside. He gathered that there were at least three persons in there, judging by their voices. He leaned casually on the wall across the door, and tried to listen in on the conversation. He hated to go in there when there were other people around. He would only go in if he needed to, when other professors were around so as to maintain his good student façade.

"But…" he heard a girl's voice.

"Oh, shut up, Mini…" That must be Potter and McGonagall, he noted with disgust. They must have come to visit Granger. He wondered how the girl was doing now. He hoped that he was all right, as his Head Boy image would be badly affected if he suffered some form of terrible trauma or something like that. He had no desire to undergo another round of grilling from the old codger. He doubted that the old codger would take things lightly if anything more happened to the girl.

He screwed up his face in disgust. The girl was really pissing him off. She had only been in his life for less than a fortnight, and yet she had done enough damage already. He would have to put a stop to all of this as soon as possible before things started to spur out of his control.

"We'll come back later then," he heard another voice which sounded very much like Alphard Black.

"But Madam McCarthy promised…"

"Charles, get a grip on yourself," he heard McGonagall's voice again. "Merope is tired. She's resting now. Let's don't disturb her just yet. We can come back tomorrow."

"Yeah, mate. Let's go," Black said.

"All right then," he heard a reluctant Potter said.

"Now, that's quite enough, students. Ms," he heard Madam McCarthy's voice.

"Okay, okay. We're leaving already. Good evening, Madam McCarthy," he heard Potter's voice. Then, he heard footsteps approaching the door. He quickly straightened up, and pretended that he had just turned into the corridor. He walked a few paces away from the wall, and started to look around him.

The double doors opened, and three figures walked out. It was indeed McGonagall and her clan, he noted.

"I'm telling you…" Potter started to say.

"Good evening, guys," he said, in his smooth and silky voice, cutting into their conversation.

The three of them looked up, and locked gazes with him. They seemed just to have noticed him.

"Oh, look who's here," Potter started to said, but McGonagall nudged his shoulders. Potter flinched at this.

"Riddle," Black said, in a clipped tone. "What are you doing here?"

"Planning to kill someone else, I suppose," Potter spat out forcefully, glaring daggers at him.

"Charles…" McGonagall put a hand on his shoulders. Potter slapped her hand away gently and straightened up, pulling himself to his full height.

"I'm warning you, Riddle. Don't you dare harm another student again? I don't care whether the professors had given you permission to do whatever nonsense you planned to pull, but I'm warning you all the same. Don't ever harm another student again, or I'll…"

"Charles, that's quite enough," McGonagall said, her voice slightly trembling.

Black advanced towards him. Tom pulled himself to his full height and looked straight at him.

"Mr. Potter is this the way you speak to your Head Boy?" he started to say, in his smooth and silky voice.

Potter started to open his mouth to protest, but Tom cut him off quickly.

"May I remind you that good manners are required during a conversation, especially when you're conversing with someone who had the authority to manage some aspects of the school?"

"Riddle…" Black started, realizing where he was heading next.

"And this goes to you as well, Mr. Black," Tom cut in again.

Black just stood there, glaring straight at him. Potter's face had turned red, and Tom could tell that he was itching to punch him right away.

"As Head Boy, I have the responsibility to ensure that students behaved well in the school, and never break any school rules at all. I do not command your respect, by the way. In fact, I'm quite prepared to accept the fact that some students seemed to hold a grudge towards me. However, I cannot tolerate this behaviour continuously, as everybody had a particular limit of patience, and that limit would somehow burst when that person had had enough. The same goes to me as I'm also an ordinary person with emotions." He paused for a while, waiting for his words to sink in. The three students just looked at him, without saying a word.

"I advise both of you to think back on what you've done, and make sure not to repeat this again in the future. As for now, I'll tolerate this behaviour just for once more, before I lost my patience, and give both of you detentions. With much regret, I'll take fifteen points from both Gryfindor and Slytherin for now. I hate doing this, you know, but both of you leave me with no choice. If I let this matter go lightly, it seemed that other students would take this wrongly, and I daresay that this is indeed a very bad example for them. Wouldn't you think so, Ms. McGonagall?" He eyed the girl who was standing between the two boys questioningly.

She gave him a disgusted look, before turning away. Ah, he had finally hit a nerve. He smirked satisfactorily. Oh yes, he knew very well how to play the game nicely!

"As for the events this afternoon, I really regretted my actions. I've no idea that this will affect our dear Head Girl greatly. Professor Slughorn and Headmaster Dippet had understood well about this, and I'm willing to offer my apologies to Ms. Granger later and made up for my conduct this afternoon." He continued in his smooth silky voice, watching the three of them, and waiting for their reactions.

"Do you understand?" he asked, after a few more minutes of silence.

The three of them nodded, before starting to back away from him.

As an afterthought, he quickly added: "Oh, just to ease my conscience and to put your thoughts at rest, Mr. Black, as Head Boy, it is my duty to patrol the corridors for the week. As the Head Girl is unavailable for now…I decided to shoulder all the responsibilities myself. I've just finished on the floor above, and was heading down this corridor when the three of you came out from there," he gestured towards the hospital wing. "I hope you are satisfied with my answer."

"Come off it, Riddle," Potter started to said, but McGonagall kicked him hard. "Ow, Mini! Okay, okay."

"Fine. We understand, Riddle. I aapologise for what Charles and Alphard had said earlier," McGonagall finally forced out unwillingly, he noted. He smirked. Finally, he had created the effect that wanted on the three of them.

Black straightened up, and cleared his throat. "If you'll all excuse me, I've an essay to complete. I'll see you for Quidditch practice tomorrow, Charles. Good night, Mini."

He started to turn and walk away without another look at Tom.

After a few paces, he turned again, and said in the same clipped tone, "And sorry about my rude behaviour, Riddle. I hope you don't take it to heart. After all, Slytherin house cannot afford to lost points just because I misbehaved, eh?"

Tom was irritated. How could someone be so annoying like Black? Black then smirked before continuing down the corridor.

"Good night, Alphard," both McGonagall and Potter chorused.

McGonagall straightened up, and started to pull Potter away in the opposite direction.

"We're not done with you yet, Riddle. Just wait and see," Potter muttered under his breath, before taking McGonagall's arm.

"Ah, we'll see about that, Mr. Potter. Tsk, tsk, I'll ask you to control that temper of yours. It'll scare charming young ladies away easily; don't you think so, Ms. McGonagall?" Tom mocked.

Potter clenched his fists and brandished them at Riddle. "Leave her out of this, will you?"

McGonagall had blushed at his comment just now, and was now tugging on Potter's sleeves nervously.

"Charles, please. Let's drop it, all right?" she finally said, with a pleading tone.

"Okay, Mini. Let's go," Potter said, trying as hard as possible to control his temper. He unclenched his fists, and gives Tom a disgusted look before turning away.

"If you'll excuse us, Mr. Riddle," Potter started to said, turning slightly to look at him, "we've some things to attend to. Good day to you." He noted that both of them throw him another disgusted look, before stalking away hurriedly.

"Good night to the both of you," he called after them, gritting his teeth satisfactorily.

He smirked and turned back towards the door. He did not care whether those stupid people liked him or not. As long as he was concern, most of the school thought very highly of him, and he would not let three ordinary students ruined it for him. He would have to get rid of them if they continued to piss him off. He would let things turn up just as it is for the time being.

Quietly, he pushed open the door of the hospital wind, and stepped through the threshold. Madam McCarthy was still in the room, arranging potion bottles on the shelves opposite the beds.

"Good evening, Madam McCarthy," he said, plastering a smile on his face. The matron turned and her face lit up when she saw him.

"Ah, Tom. I was expecting you sometime today," she said, giving him a warm smile.

"I'm sorry. I was too busy today. I've just clear things up with Headmaster Dippet."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll understand, Tom. After all, it's not your intention of harming her, right?"

He grunted in agreement, and smiled at her.

"Poor girl, the war had taken a great tow on her life, I've noticed that the first time she walked in here. I hope you don't feel too disappointed with yourself, Tom. Nobody blamed you for her actions. She admitted to me that he was not thinking straight at that time. She just thought that you were going to kill someone else, after witnessing what you did. It brought back her past."

"I see," Tom said. So, the girl's story was indeed true. He was sure of it now, after seeing what she had done that afternoon. He felt a bit sorry for the girl, but the feeling quickly disappeared. She had irritated him for quite some time now. He did not care whether she had a bad past or not, she still need to learn her place here at Hogwarts. He would not be too easy on her, he decided.

"How is she?" he pretended to ask, faking concern in his voice.

"She's fine. She just dozed off after I gave her the potion you invented last year."

"The dreamless sleep potion?"

"Yes, and she liked it very much. She told me it tasted great and she had never tasted anything like that before."

Tom smiled. Of course she hadn't, he noted. That was his very own recipe. He had researched it in the library, and planned to modify the potion so that it would be more effective than the normal one.

"The margarita pteria really worked well, I guessed," he muttered.

"Ah, yes. I think it was in fact a very good herb. Who would think of Chinese medicine in potion making?" the matron smiled at him encouragingly.

"Oh yes," Tom said, "I've just found out about it when I was reading some books in the library, and thought of giving it a try."

He had tried to obtain the particular herb from the apothecary back in Diagon Alley, but the owner did not even know of its existence or what it was. He had then gone to Knockturn Alley. He was surprised to find a shabby little shop there, selling all kinds of herbs, mostly Chinese herbs. No one would guess that Chinese herbs have such a great potential in their uses. He had found various useful ingredients to make dark potions too. The margarita, for instance, was an herb with very great potential indeed. He gathered that it can cure disharmony of the heart, and may help in calming nerves. So, he had tried it out by mixing it with the dreamless sleep potion, and it worked well. He had tested the potion himself, and it had managed to create the results which he desired. It was then that he had shared his findings with the matron, just for the sake of impressing her and gaining her trust. He figured that he might some day use her for his own purposes if it was necessary.

He noted that it would be better that way. No one would suspect a thing if he used the potions on someone else, if he want to test them. In fact, he had successfully fooled a few silly girls in consuming dark potions which he had created, during the last term. No one suspected a thing, and Madam McCarthy could not even explain what it was that caused the girls' condition. It was he who had healed them himself, after pretending that he knew some healing and asking whether the matron would be so kind as to let him assist her in healing the students. It was then that their relationship started to develop. He had shared most of his findings with Madam McCarthy, and she had thought him a lot about healing. However, he was clever enough not to share certain information with the matron, especially information concerning dark potions and certain uses of Chinese herbs which he thought not wise to let her know.

"Maybe we can add more margarita in our next batch," the matron's voice jolted him from his thoughts. She was now standing a few feet away from him, observing him with her arms crossed.

"I don't think that's wise. It'll have other side effects, I daresay," he quickly cut in.

"Oh, I see. In that case, it's the same proportion as the last batch then?"

"I think that'll do just fine," he said, pulling up a chair and sitting down. The matron pulled another chair over from the side of one of the beds, and joined him.

"So, what are we going to do today, Tom?" she asked, excitedly. "What do you have to show me? I thought you mentioned a particular herb before summer."

"Ah, yes," he said, pulling out a small box from his robe pocket. The matron's eyes twinkled with excitement.

"What is it? Come on, don't keep me waiting. You're full of surprises, you know?" she chuckled.

He gave her another smile, before lifting the lid off the box. Inside the box were a few dry white flowers, which were very small. He lifted these out of the box, and placed them in the matron's hands.

Madam McCarthy looked down at the flowers, and sniffed it.

"Ah, what have we here?" she asked. "It had no smell at all. Another Chinese herb, perhaps?"

"Yes indeed. I was lucky to come across it during one of my visits to a particular place during summer," he said. He had obtained it in the same shop at Knockturn Alley that summer.

"Oh, I see. I wondered where you get all of these, boy. You never failed to amaze me. Come on, what is it?"

He smiled and cleared his throat.

"This," he begins, "is one of the most amazing herbs that I've ever come across. It is known as Hera hedyotic diffuisa. It is dried and cleaned before using. Usually it is collected during summer, that's why I cannot show it to you before the break. I was lucky that my supplier had just got it ready in time when I arrived. It's actually related to Anndrographis paniculata, you know."

"Oh?" Madam McCarthy's expression betrayed her enthusiasm. "So, the healing properties are basically the same; it can cure sore throat, heatiness and also snakebites?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he replied, smiling at the matron again.

"Oh, very nice name indeed. What else can it do?" Madam McCarthy said, beaming at him.

"I've not fully researched on it yet, to tell you the truth. So far, I gathered that it can be used to cure poisonous snake bites, especially venomous snakes, just like the Anndrographis Paniculata. I'll try to read up more on it during my free periods. I've actually got a few books on this herb already."

"Wow!" the matron was getting very excited now. "I think this would be an interesting herb. Who knows if we can add it to certain potions?"

"Yeah, I'm thinking about that too. Perhaps Professor Keddleburn can use them during Care of Magical Creatures too, but I doubt we'll be dealing with snakes." He chuckled lightly.

The matron laughed. She fingered the white flowers thoughtfully.

"You better keep this," she said, taking the box from him and putting the flowers back into it. "We'll work on it later if there's time."

With a half smile, he took the box from her hands, and slipped it carefully into his pocket.

Now, he had just one more thing to settle before he excused himself. He would have to try and ask the matron about his seizure. He tried to think of a way to phrase his questions, so that the matron would not suspect that something was wrong with him.

Madam McCarthy had got up from her chair, and was now pacing the room. Tom took a deep breath, and tried to calm himself.

"Madam McCarthy?" he started.

"Yes, dear?" the matron turned, and looked at him questioningly. The smile on her face never faltered.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Certainly, my dear," she said.

He swallowed hard before continuing. "I was wondering whether you can help me out on something."

"Oh? What is it, dear?" she asked him, "I'll see what I can do about it. Just tell me."

Just as he was about to reply, he heard rustling sounds from one of the bed. It grew louder and louder. Then, he heard pounding sounds too. He blinked.

Madam McCarthy looked up.

"Oh dear!" she said, running towards one of the beds. Tom got up from his chair, and followed her. By now, he could hear screams coming from one of the beds; the same screams which he had heard a couple of days ago. Merope Granger was having a nightmare again.

"Oh, poor girl," the matron muttered, approaching the bed. She started to pull the curtains apart.

"No! Please! Don't do that!"

"Merope…" Madam McCarthy began to shake the girl softly. Tom stepped close behind her. The girl was lying on her back, thrashing and twitching violently. Her body shook and tears were streaming down her face, which was half hidden by the pillow that she was lying on. Her fists were pounding the bed furiously.

"Harry! Harry! Quick! Run! He's coming!"

"Merope, dear," Madam McCarthy said, shaking the girl harder this time. "Wake up, wake up. It's just a nightmare."

The girl continued to thrash about.

"Harry! No! You can't die now! We need you!"

Tom watched this for a few more minutes, before walking towards the shelves. With a flick of his wand, he summoned an empty bottle from the top shelf, and walked towards the matron's office. "I'll be back in a minute," he muttered to the matron, who gave him a questioning look.

Tom smiled at her and held up the empty bottle in his hands. She looked at for a moment, and then nodded in understanding.

"Harry!" he heard the girl screamed. Harry? Who was Harry? Was he one of her friends whom she had lost during the war?

"Shhh," he heard Madam McCarthy's voice before he closed the door behind him.

He headed for the long table at the center of the room, and sat down. He took out another box from his robe pocket, and emptied all its contents into the bottle. The margarita had already been crushed into powder, and he started to shake the bottle for a few times, before flicking his wand. A jet of water shot out from his wand into the bottle. He mixed the concoction quickly, and added a few drops of dreamless sleep potion and calming potion into the mixture. He hoped that this would be strong enough for the girl. He could not explain why he had a sudden urge to help her. It was as though he had been pulled by a certain force which had stirred his conscience, and he felt sorry once again for the girl.

He cringed inwardly with disgust. Who was she to him anyway? After all, she had irritated him enough already, and had almost ruined his good student reputation with the incident today. He tried as best as possible to think of a valid explanation of his actions now. He reasoned that he could not stand her screams any longer, as it would make him sick. Satisfied with this explanation, he smirked, capped the bottle and stood up. He headed out of the office, holding the bottle firmly in his right hand.

The girl's screams had ceased, and he saw that she was awake. She was sobbing violently, and Madam McCarthy was putting an arm around her.

"Shh, everything will be okay, dear. I'm here. We'll help you. Just calm down," he heard the matron's soothing voice, as she started to rock the crying girl.

"He took everything away from us," the girl managed to choke out between her sobs. "My parents, Harry's parents, Lupin, Thonks…Harry could have died…"

"Shhh, dear. Everything is over, you're safe now," the matron continued to rock the girl.

"I hate him. I want to kill him, and I will. I will kill him," the girl continued to choke out.

Tom raised an eyebrow at this. Who was the girl talking about? She was planning to kill someone, he gathered from the tone of her voice. She must have hated that person very much. Perhaps it was Grindelwald. He scoffed inwardly at this. Who did she think she was? Killing Grindelwald was definitely the greatest joke that he had ever heard. Did she think that she could do it, he wondered. He laughed inwardly at this. The girl must have lost her mind! Killing Grindelwald was never a simple task. Tom secretly planned to do that himself, if he managed to do so. He would have the chance to take over the wizarding world if he succeeded.

"It's all right, Merope," the matron said, rubbing small circles on the girl's back. The girl buried her face deeper into the matron's arms, and sobbed.

After a few more minutes, girl's sobs subsided. She hugged the matron tightly, and wiped away her tears on her nightgown. She then looked up and saw him. The disgusted look on her face returned. She quickly turned away, and fixed her gaze on the opposite wall.

Madam McCarthy looked up, and followed her gaze. She smiled when she saw Tom, and beckoned him forward.

"Ah, have you brewed it?" she said, eyeing the bottle in his right hand.

"Yes," he said, uncapping the bottle, and conjuring a silver goblet using his wand. He poured all the contents of the bottle into the cup, and held it out to the matron.

She took it and walked towards the opposite side of the bed. Granger had turned her back on him, Tom noted, and was busy twirling a lock of hair around her fingers. He could just make out her tear-stained face under the locks of brown curls that had fallen onto her forehead and covering her face.

"Merope dear, here you go. Drink this and everything will be all right," the matron said, putting the goblet to the girl's lips.

For a moment, the girl hesitated, and glanced sideways at him. Tom quickly looks away, not wanting to meet her gaze again. Then, she turned back, and gulped down the potion.

"Good. Now, try and get some sleep."

The matron laid the girl down once more on the bed. The girl let out a long sigh and closed her eyes.

Tom started to walk out of the hospital wing. He would ask the matron about his seizure later, he decided. Now was probably not the appropriate moment to do so.

"Ah Tom, I see you're leaving," the matron said. "What is it that you want to ask me just now?"

"Oh, it's nothing important, I assure you. It can wait until another time," he said, plastering another smile on his face.

"If you said so, my dear. I guess you better be off. It's getting late, and I would not want to keep you here for the night. You need your rest too," she said, smiling back at him.

He leaned against the door, and dared a glance at the bed where Merope Granger laid. She was fast asleep, he noted, with the covers tightly pulled around her. "This is all Granger's fault," he muttered irritably under his breath. "If only she could save her nightmare for another minute, I would have found out what I wanted to know."

He sighed, and turned away. He opened the door, and stepped out into the corridor.

"Good night, Tom," he heard the matron's voice behind him.

"Good night, Madam McCarthy," he said before closing the door quietly behind him, and heading back to his dormitory.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione spent the rest of the evening and the next day tucked up in bed in the hospital wing. After her nightmare that evening, Madam McCarthy had insisted that she was not fit yet to attend classes, and had talked her into staying another night at the hospital wing.

"You still need to rest, Merope. You almost scared the daylight out of me yesterday. Your nightmare was the worst that I've ever seen before. Luckily young Mr. Riddle was quick enough to brew the dreamless sleep potion for you."

Hermione's insides cringed with disgust at this. The matron reminded her of the events of last night, and the more she thought about it, Hermione felt more and more uncomfortable. She had one of her terrible nightmares again, and in her state of grief, she had blurted out some important things during her breakdown yesterday, in the presence of the bloody psycho. He had looked at her questioningly, before backing away after handing Madam McCarthy the dreamless sleep potion.

Hermione tried to suppress the disgusted look on her face as best as possible. She had no choice yesterday, she figured. If she did not take the potion, the psycho will definitely be more suspicious about her. She could not afford to turn up his suspicions further. She had already slipped up for a few times, and she was intended to cover up for all that as best as she could manage. Thus, after weighing her options carefully, she gulped down the potion. After all, she still liked the bittersweet taste of it; she had never tasted anything like that before. She did not care whether the psycho had brewed it or not, she reasoned. As long as she was able to get back to sleep as soon as possible, the better it would be. She would have time to ponder her options and clear her thoughts before making her next move.

Minerva, Charles and Alphard had visited her the next afternoon, bringing along notes for that day's lessons and her homework. Madam McCarthy looked disapprovingly at them, but nevertheless let them in.

"I'll give you forty-five minutes, and that's it. Merope needs her rest," the matron said, before bustling off into her office.

"I'm fine, Madam McCarthy," Hermione started to protest.

"Oh, don't give me that, Merope. I would not let matters rest until I'm sure you're fit enough to leave here. I wouldn't like to see anymore nightmares, mind you."

Hermione let out a defeated sigh, and turned back to her friends. Alphard offered her a wide grin.

"So, all Os as usual, eh?" Charles said, putting down the stack of parchments which he was carrying.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"All your essays are with me now. All the professors were impressed. You got all Os," Charles said, handing the stack of parchment to Hermione.

"Oh," she said, smiling. "This is nothing at all."

"Oh, come on, girl. Don't be modest," Charles said, slapping her shoulders playfully. "Just admit you're intelligent."

Minerva smiled at this. Hermione blushed, and quickly covered her face with her hands.

"Can I borrow your essays, Merope? I just wanted to have a look at them," Charles said after a few more minutes of silence.

"Certainly," Hermione said, holding out the stack of parchment. She smiled at the memories where Harry and Ron would bug her to lend them her essays to copy. At the same time, a pang of sadness washed over her. She missed her friends very much. She wanted to see them again so badly.

"Make sure you don't copy them," Hermione added, "in case you've haven't do your homework," she joked. Charles blushed at this.

"Well…" he started.

"Charles Potter, don't even think about copying other people's work…" Minerva started. Charles gave Minerva a playful slap on the shoulder, and Minerva just pushed his hand away.

The four of them continued to chat about school work and lesson for a while, before steering the conversation towards another direction.

"So, how are you feeling, Merope?" Alphard asked, after Hermione suppressed her giggles. Charles had just cracked a joke, and Hermione was laughing herself crazy at it. She felt that she had not been so happy for quite some time now. She reasoned that she would not allow her sadness haunt her any longer, as she would be able to get back after completing her task. So, she started to cheer up and laugh along with the others.

"Better," she said. "By the way, what happened after I passed out?"

Alphard sighed, and started to recount the events of yesterday to her. Hermione's listened intently. She was shocked to find out that it was none other than the psycho himself who had pulled her away from the curse. Why was he doing this, she could not help wondering. Wouldn't my death make things easier for him?

As though he was able to read her thoughts, Alphard said: "Perhaps Riddle wanted to maintain his reputation as a good student. After all, it would not look good at him if you're dead."

"Yes, that's it," Hermione thought, agreeing with Alphard. "After all, why else did he act like this? He's Lord Voldemort, and Lord Voldemort never did anything which did not benefit him in some way."

"Did you see his face when he left?" Charles cut in, the displeasure evident in his voice. "I was just leaving for Dumbledore's office with Mini when he bumped into the both of us outside the corridor. He looked scared."

"Probably thinking what cover story to throw at Dippet," Alphard interrupted. "Did you see his stupid arrogant face when he confronted us last night?"

"Yeah," Minerva said, "I think that it's best to stay as far away from him as possible. After what he did yesterday, I'm scared as hell."

"Oh Mini, don't worry about that. We can teach him a lesson some day," Charles cut in, punching the air with his fist. "He thinks that he is Head Boy, which made him superior, eh? Let's show him that he's wrong some day."

"Yeah," Alphard said, grinning mischievously. "I think we can pull something on Riddle, but we would have to be careful."

"Guys…" Minerva tried to say, but Charles laid a finger on her lips.

"Guys, listen to me," Hermione said quietly.  
"Don't mess around with him. He's terrible."

"Oh yeah, we know that," Alphard started to said.

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh, and tried again.

"Charles, chill down and listen to me carefully. I know Riddle. I've been working with him for the past two days, and the experience is not pleasant at all. He wouldn't even talk to me, and he did all the work himself. He even tried to curse me, you know. I was lucky to get out of his way quickly," she quickly said, telling them half the truth.

Alphard looked concerned.

"Did he hurt you, Merope?"

"No, of course not. He wouldn't dare, I guess. I'm his other counterpart after all," Hermione said quickly, plastering a smile on her face. She hoped that her friends would not take it wrongly, and go and hex that psycho for her sake. She had no desire of getting them into trouble.

"If he does that again, remember to tell us," Charles said. "We'll make sure he regrets what he did."

"Be careful around him, Merope," Minerva said, looking worry.

"Don't worry, I will," she said.

"Oh, by the way, I just remembered something," Alphard said. "I noticed that there was something off with Riddle when he left yesterday. He kept on clutching his sides, and I gathered that he looked slightly paler."

"What?" Hermione asked, with her eyebrows raised.

"Come to think of it now, he doubled over after he pulled you away, Merope. That's why he let go of your waist. At first, I thought that he was looking for the spider, but after giving it a more careful thought, I figured that this was not the case. He was suffering from something, I think."

"Oh?" Charles cut in excitedly. "Why didn't you tell us this yesterday, Alphard?"

"I just thought about it," Alphard said. "When I asked him about it, he quickly said that it was none of my business at all. I was too pissed off with him to notice anything at first."

What the hell was this all about, Hermione wondered. The dark lord in pain? Harry had never told her anything at all. Perhaps the dark lord had indeed suffered some kind of illness before, which they had no knowledge about. She itched to find out more about it, but thought better about it. Why would she care about that anyway? After all, she was here to kill him, and this would only make her task easier. She smiled at this thought.

"Let's find out about it," Charles started to say.

"How?" Minerva asked.

"We just have to do so snooping around, if you know what I mean. Just follow Riddle and find out what is he hiding from us. Who knows if we can use his weakness against him?" Charles said in a conspicuous tone.

Alphard and Minerva finally gave in and agreed with him after a long bickering session, which Hermione did not have the heart to stop. She would just let them had their way for once. After all, it would also be an advantage to her. She would be able to concentrate more on her task, and use the information that her friends were able to obtain [if any] to her advantage. This only makes things easier for her.

When they were done with the planning and plotting [which was done in a hurry, Hermione noted], they chatted for a while about other things, before Madam McCarthy emerged from her office, and announced that it was time for her friends to leave. Hermione bid them goodbye, and smiled at them. The three of them promised to meet her for breakfast at the Great Hall on tomorrow.

"I'll be out of here on tomorrow, right?" Hermione asked Madam McCarthy, with a hopeful look in her eyes.

"Oh yes, my dear. We'll see how things turn up. If all is well, I'll allow you to leave on tomorrow," the matron replied.

"So, see you tomorrow, Head Girl," said Charles, before walking out and closing the door behind him. Minerva and Alphard waved at her, and Hermione returned their wave with a big grin.

"Okay," she managed to call out before the door closed completely.

Hermione spent the rest of the evening going through the notes which Minerva had lent her. She had bugged Madam McCarthy to lend her some parchment and quill so that she can copy them. She preferred to copy them, instead of making a copy using her wand. She thought that it would be easier to remember what she had read by this way, and she would not have much trouble writing all of that down again during examinations. She loved her style of studying. Harry and Ron had always teased her for memorizing every word of the textbook and her notes.

"Hermione, I think I've find a nickname for you at last," Harry had said one day, while they were in the Gryfindor commonroom. She had given him a stern look.

"Well, what is it, mate? I only know her as the Insufferable Know-It-All, thanks to Professor Snape," Ron said, chuckling.

Hermione had glared fiercely at him.

"Hermione, you're a regurgitator," Harry said, and burst out laughing. Unable to contain herself, Hermione had thrown a pillow at Harry, and the three of them started to laugh after that. When she thought about it now, she was beginning to like the new nickname. After all, she was so used to regurgitate all she had learned.

At this memory, she smiled. Harry and Ron were really her very best friends, and she would not let them down. She would complete her task, and go back to join them. The three of them will be happy again, and the whole wizarding world would have a brighter future. The cause would be stopped at its root; she would make sure that Lord Voldemort will never have the chance to rise to power.

With this thought in mind, the rest of the evening passed on swiftly for Hermione. She talked to Madam McCarthy, ate her dinner and then went to bed. She wanted to be up early on tomorrow to attend lessons. She does not want to miss another day of it anymore.

"I see you're progressing quite well, my dear. I think you can be out of here on tomorrow," Madam McCarthy said, before tucking Hermione into bed, after giving her another glass of dreamless sleep potion.

Hermione smiled at the matron and pulled the covers up to her chin. She would be back on track tomorrow, and her plan would have to be carried out as soon as possible. She was still turning possibilities in her head now. She had no idea how to kill the young dark lord without raising any suspicions at all. With these thoughts still lingering in her mind, Hermione drifted off to sleep, as the potion began to take effect on her. She slept peacefully that night, without any nightmares at all.

The next morning, she felt fresh and was ready to leave. Madam McCarthy bustled about her bed, giving her another body check. When she was done, she smiled satisfactorily.

"There, you're fit to go now," the matron said, giving Hermione a final pat on the shoulders.

"Thank you, Madam McCarthy," Hermione said, getting up from the bed and stretching. She took off the hospital gown, and changed into her school uniform, which she had summoned from her trunk the day before.

"Take care of yourself, dear. I do not wish to see you in here again so soon," Madam McCarthy said, giving her another broad smile before walking into her office.

"Don't worry. I'll take good care of myself. Good day, Madam McCarthy," Hermione said, making her way out of the building.

The morning sun was just beginning to rise, and the day was getting warmer. The cold autumn wind was not as chilly as the past few days, and Hermione enjoyed her walk down the corridors of the castle which she had called home for many years now. She turned into the seventh floor corridor, humming softly to herself. She was going to get her schoolbag in her dormitory first before heading down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

As she approached the portrait of the Pink Lady, she remembered what she had planned to do earlier. She was going to try and ask the Pink Lady a few more questions. She was sure that the portrait had something to do with her task.

Cautiously, she approached the portrait. The Pink Lady looked down at Hermione with warm brown eyes, and smiled her dazzling smile.

"Password, dear?" she asked in her soft melodic voice.

"My lady, can I ask you something?" Hermione said, after clearing her throat several times.

"Well, certainly, my dear. What would a lovely young lady like you want to know?" the Pink Lady offered her another of her dazzling smiles. Hermione noticed that the pink pearl in her left hand gleamed more brightly than before, as the rays of sunlight from the small window on the opposite wall reflected on it.

"My lady, if you don't mind, I would like to know whether you're related to Harperlindo McKenna?" Hermione asked, looking enquiringly at the portrait.

The Pink Lady's smile widened. She gazed at Hermione for a long time before answering.

"Ah, you never give up, do you?" she asked. "My dear, how I wish that I can tell all about it now."

"Tell me what?" Hermione said, started to get excited.

"Ah, but I think it is not possible to do so. When the time is right, I'll be sure to tell you all I know."

"Know what?" Hermione was getting frustrated.

"Patience is what you need, my dear. Just focus on what you have, and try to figure out what is your task. This is all I can tell you for the time being. When the time is right, you've all the answers you need in your hands."

The portrait offered her another smile, and lifted the pearl in her left hand higher into the air.

Hermione let out a deep breath.

"Fine," she said in a defeated voice. "Can I ask you another question then, my lady?"

"Ask away, my dear," the portrait said.

"Was that the Pearl of Destiny that you're holding?" Hermione asked, trying to calm her nerves. Her heart was racing at a very fast pace now. She hoped that the Pink Lady would not let her down again.

"Ah, my dear. Again, I'm afraid that I cannot answer your question, as time does not allow me to do this just yet. I'm so sorry." The Pink Lady gave her an apologetic look.

Hermione's face fell. She would have to wait for goodness knows when before she was able to get the answers she wanted.

"Okay, I understand, my lady. Now, can you be so kind as to let me in?"

"Of course, dear. Once again, I hope you accept my apologies. How I wish I can do more to help you." The portrait let out a long and deep sigh.

"I understand, my lady," Hermione said, trying her best to smile.

"Password?" the Pink Lady said, her face brightening up with another smile.

"Caput Draconis."

The portrait immediately swung aside, and Hermione stepped into the commonroom. She looked around the room. The fire had died down, and the fireplace was cold. She walked passed the couch and climbed the staircase leading to the room.

She pushed the door open slowly, and stepped quietly into the room, just in case the young dark lord was still inside. She heard running water coming from the bathroom. She gathered that he must be in the shower. She quickly walked to her side of the room, and gathered up her things. She had no desire to face him here, especially when they were alone. She had no desire to be tortured, just in case he was planning to do it when he saw her. After all, she had nevertheless ruined his reputation and spoilt his day yesterday.

She was just about to leave when she remembered something else. Hastily, she pulled McKenna's journal out of her trunk, and stuffed it into her beaded bag. After darting a few more glances towards the bathroom door to make sure that the young dark lord was still inside, she quickly locked her trunk again, and shoved it under her bed once more. Then, she slung her schoolbag over her shoulders, and walked out of the room as fast as possible.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

** This is only the first part of the chapter. I decided to split this chapter into two parts, as it was a very long one, and I hate to keep you guys waiting. The other half of the chapter has already been written, waiting to be typed out. I'll try to upload the other half as fast as possible. Please bear with me, as I got carried away while writing this chapter! The flow just continued, and I'm having difficulties ending it!

** The herbs I mentioned just now are real Chinese herbs. I thought of putting them into the story, adding a few magical properties to them. You can find out more about their uses if you liked. I thought it would be fun to include things like this in the story, to make it more interesting. Hope all of you liked it. Please read and review, and let me know what you think about my story thus far.

** Once again, next half of this chapter will be uploaded soon!

^^ Hermione Hean Fui ^^

He stretched, XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX


	12. Chapter 12DUMBLEDORE'S PROPOSITION CONT

Chapter 11: Dumbledore's Proposition [continued]

Hermione felt glad that she was able to get back to her classes again. All her fellow Gryfindors welcomed her back with warm smiles. They hugged her tightly in a warm embrace and flashed her broad grins and waved joyfully at her as she joined them at the Gryfindor table. Hermione was very happy about this. She ate her breakfast merrily, and joked and laughed along with her friends. She felt that her appetite was returning, hence she piled her plate with more food than before. Minerva and Charles merely looked at her as she forked eggs and bacon into her mouth whilst laughing along with them.

"Watch out, girl! Don't get choked," Charles said, giving Hermione a grin.

"Don't worry. I will take care of that," Hermione said, stuffing her face with more food. Minerva gave her an exasperated look.

"Sorry. I'm starving. Couldn't eat much at the hospital wing as my appetite had not returned yesterday," Hermione said.

Minerva just nodded, but did not wipe the look of exasperation away from her face. Hermione chuckled at this. Minerva was in some ways like the Professor McGonagall back in her time.

As the day continued, Hermione felt much better. Even Mariana had stopped teasing her about Riddle. Hermione was glad about this. Finally, the girl had seen a bit of Riddle's true colours, and was probably too shaken by the experience. Roger and Bilius also stopped throwing compliments about Riddle in front of Hermione. She was quite glad with this turn of events.

The day passed by in a flash, with Hermione attending all her classes together with Minerva and Charles. They joked and laughed a lot. Alphard joined them during lunchtime at the Gryfindor table. Hermione could see that his cousin Lucricia was not too pleased with this, as she kept throwing dirty looks at the Gryfindor table once in a while. Alphard just pretended not to notice it, and continued to chat merrily with Hermione and her group of friends. He try as best as possible to avert his gaze from Lucricia's blazing eyes, which was enough to sent daggers flying at him in all directions. A few Slytherin girls, Millie Parkinson among them, noted this with displeasure. They patted Lucricia on the shoulders and whispered something in her ears. Lucricia just pursed her lips in a tight line, and continued to glare furiously at the Gryfindor table. Hermione chuckled at this. She was pleased to find that some things never changed; Alphard was just like Sirius, with the same persona and looks. She liked him that way. At least she was able to find comfort in his company, as he reminded her so much of her past. She smiled at this thought, and continued to eat her lunch, glancing once in a while at the Slytherin table. Riddle, it seems, was not at the table on this particular afternoon. She wondered where had he gone too. She had seen him earlier in most of her classes, sitting as quietly as usual at his usual spot at the front row of the class. He had not answered any questions at all that morning, which had even surprised her further. Hermione had happily raised her hand as always when every professor asked a particular question, and answered all of them. The professors beamed at her, and awarded her points for every correct answer that she gave. Minerva and Charles offered her fleeting smiles throughout the lessons, and Hermione returned them with winks and broad grins.

Riddle seems not to have notice it at all, or rather pretended not to notice it. He sat straight up in his seat, casually tapping his fingers on the table while looking out of the window for most of the lesson. Even the professors noticed the change in him. Professor Beerie had walked up to him and asked him whether he was all right. Riddle just smiled and said that he had a headache. The professor patted his shoulders and gave him some encouraging comment before walking off to observe other students, who were busy scribbling on their parchments, as this was a theoretical class. When the last bell rang, signaling lunchtime, Riddle packed up his things quickly, and left the classroom before the other students did. Hermione just watched his tall form disappearing round the corner of the corridor curiously from the corner of her eyes. Ah, why must she care about him so much? He is Lord Voldemort after all. He knows how to take care of himself and do whatever he liked. She would not give a damn at all. As long as she was concerned, the sooner she planned his demise, the better it would be.

However, as she eats her lunch now, her curiosity overtook her again. What was the matter with that psycho now, Hermione wondered. Why was he so quiet for the whole morning and never turned up for lunchtime? Was he really suffering from some kind of sickness just like Alphard had suspected earlier?

"Oh, why would I bother about that at all? He's probably in the library or somewhere else. This is none of my concern. I'm going to kill him, and I'll be sure to do it," she scolded herself, before stabbing her knife into her roast potatoes angrily. She imagined that the potatoes were Riddle's body, and she continued to stab it with content. She smiled as she tried to imagine Riddle, clutching his sides, and begging for her to stop. A murderous smile crossed her face.

"Merope, are you okay?" Alphard asked, looking at her with concern. "It looks like you're going to cut a hole in your plate if you continue like this."

"Wow, look at her face!" Charles exclaimed, rolling his eyes and grinning at Hermione. "What did the potatoes do to deserve such a death glare, Merope? You looked as though you're going to murder them, you know."

"Oh, Charles. Indeed, I'm going to murder someone. Don't worry, the potatoes were innocent and did not deserve to be killed," she scoffed inwardly, before looking up at her friends. Minerva was eyeing her with a worry expression on her face. Alphard and Charles were giving her concerned looks.

Hermione quickly covered her face in embarrassment, and put down her knife.

"Sorry. I was deep in thought just now. I didn't realize that I used such a great force on the potatoes."

Luckily, the others believed her story, and did not question her further on the subject. Hermione let out a sigh of relief, and continued to eat her lunch.

After lunchtime, Hermione excused herself, as she had no more lessons for the day. Charles was going to have Divination, and Minerva had promised to meet Alphard at the Quidditch pitch, after he had bugged her into seeing him practice. Alphard had asked Hermione whether she would like to join them, but Hermione politely declined his invitation. She told him that she was tired, and wanted to take a nap. However, this was actually not the case. She had planned to stay in her dormitory for the rest of the day, and read up on the three thick tomes that she had duplicated from Riddle and also McKenna's journal. She figured that she would have the whole commonroom to herself, as Riddle was attending Divination at the North Tower with Charles and a few other students. She would use this opportunity to gain as much knowledge as possible, and figure out how to complete her task.

"Okay, maybe next time, Merope," Alphard said, his face falling slightly. "You better get some rest. We'll see you later."

Hermione offered him a smile. "I'm sorry to let you down, Alphard. Next time, I'll definitely be there to watch you practice."

"No worries, Merope. I understand. You really looked a bit pale. I think you better go straight to bed for the rest of the day."

"Yeah," Minerva agreed, giving Hermione's hand a light squeeze before letting go.

Both of them started to head out of the doors of the castle. Alphard waved merrily at Hermione, and she waved back, giving him a wide grin.

"See you guys later," Hermione called out, before turning away and walking towards the staircases. She headed straight to the seventh floor, and turned into the corridor leading to her dormitory.

"Hello dear," the Pink Lady greeted Hermione. "Password?"

"Nice to see you again, my lady," Hermione greeted. "Caput Draconis."

She stepped into the commonroom and the portrait hole closed quietly behind her. She made her way upstairs, and dumped her schoolbag onto the floor next to her bed. Then, she headed for the bathroom to take a quick shower, before beginning her activities for that evening. She figured that she would have at least five hours to read through all four of the books and do some quick planning, before she would meet Dumbledore in his office, as it was Friday.

At the thought of meeting Dumbledore, she begins to ponder possibilities in her mind. Should she tell Dumbledore about the future and about her task? After all, it would not change the timeline at all, according to McKenna. She could ask Dumbledore to help her accomplish her mission. She was not sure whether he would agree with her plan, but she figured out that it would do no harm trying to make him see the reasons behind her plans. After all, he had had his suspicions on Riddle already. If Dumbledore refused to help her, she would have no trouble at all, as she was sure that she would be able to complete the task alone. After all, she had been through so many complicated and challenging moments together with two of her best friends during her time period.

She was just beginning to mull over possibilities in her mind when she heard a loud swish. She looked up, and saw a streak of red feather heading towards her. The next moment, she was looking into two bright and glittering eyes of a bird which is too familiar to her.

"Fawkes!" she exclaimed, reaching out excitedly. The phoenix swooped in through the open window in the room, and perched on top of Hermione's shoulders. She stroked its head gently. It let out a beautiful sigh, and held up its legs.

"Oh, did Dumbledore sent this?" she asked, untying a small parcel which was wrapped in brown paper from the phoenix's legs. The bird nodded, and gave her a wink.

"Thank you," Hermione said, stroking Fawke's' beautiful feathers fondly. The phoenix gave her another wink, before taking off again. "Remember to thank Professor Dumbledore for me as well," Hermione called after it, as she watched the streak of red feathers disappeared through the open window as the bird headed for one of the towers of the castle.

Hermione was getting excited. Had Dumbledore figured anything out already? What is it that he had sent her? She figured that it must be important, as Dumbledore would probably give it to her when they meet instead of sending it to her prior to their meeting.

She looked at the wrapped parcel thoughtfully for a while. Then, unable to contain her curiosity any longer, she picked up the parcel from the bed, where she had dropped it earlier, and started to unwrapped it carefully. She noted that it was very light. What might it be, she still wondered, as she carefully slid the paper off the parcel.

There was a slightly old and tattered black leather box, and Hermione picked it up. She squinted more closely at it. She turned it over for several times in her hands, trying to look for any signs or writing engraved on it. Finding nothing of that sort, she turned the box over in her hands for one last time, and opened it.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Inside the box, there was a beautiful gold chain, which held a gold locket. The locket was gorgeous. She falls in love with it at first sight.

Two emerald gems lined both sides of the locket. They glittered beautifully. Hermione lifted up the locket from the box, and felt the cold stone of the gems against her palm.

As her fingers made contact with the locket, a warm sensation washed over her. Hermione felt the warmth traveling up her arms, and coursed through her whole body. She felt strangely calm and relaxed.

She took a deep breath, and looked down once more at the locket in her hands. Why had Dumbledore sent this to her? He must have figured out something after all.

With trembling hands, she tried to open the locket. She did not hear the familiar click as she tried to pull it open. She tried it again for a few more times, before putting the locket down. Why can't she open it, she wondered. Was this some kind of horcrux just like Slytherin's locket? At this thought, she shuddered.

"No, it couldn't be a horcrux. After all, Dumbledore had sent it to me," she reasoned at last.

She picked up the locket and was just putting it back into the black box when something else caught her eyes.

"Ah, I should have known," she said, excitement bubbling in her again. "Dumbledore would not send this without any explanations, would he?"

She smiled, and pulled out a roll of parchment from the box, which she had not noticed earlier. Carefully, she unrolled the parchment, and started to read the letter. It was written in the familiar thin and slanting handwriting which she had recognized for years now.

Dear Ms. Granger,

I'm happy to inform you that I had managed to figure out how to help you to get back to your time period, after doing a bit of research. I have discovered some very interesting things, which might explain how you ended up here too. However, part of the puzzle is still missing, and I hoped that we will be able to work it out together when we met on Friday. In fact, I'm still not quite sure whether my conclusions were correct. Never mind about that though, as we can figure it out later during our meeting.

As for now, I've decided to send this to you before our meeting, to give you a rough idea on what I've discovered. Try to think about it, and tell me whether you can make any sense out of this at all. I don't blame you if you don't, as the theory that I've discovered is one of the rarest ones that I had ever heard of myself. I hope that you received this parcel in time before our meeting. I've asked my phoenix, Fawkes to take this to your dormitory without anyone noticing it, and placing it under your bed covers, as you're probably still in the hospital wing. If you did not find it in time, Fawkes must have figured out that it was not safe to deliver it to you. He would instead deliver the parcel straight to you when you returned from the hospital wing.

Inside this parcel, you'll find a golden locket, which was originally owned by my beloved sister, Ariana Dumbledore. I would not bored you with the details of my wonderful sister and how she got the locket. So, you only need to know that the locket was handed down from my great-grandmother, who was a cousin of Harperlindo McKenna, the greatest potions master of the 16th century. Since then it had been in our family for years. I had kept this locket since the passing of my sister, and it had just crossed my mind a few days ago, when I started to research about your problem. However, I'm still not sure of the powers of this locket. So far, I had not discovered anything much about it yet.

Inside the locket, you would find a familiar portrait, and a scroll of parchment, which had been tucked into the small gap at the top right corner of the locket. I advise you to enlarge the locket in order to get a better look of it.

The locket would only open when the name of the person which it is bestowed upon was spoken aloud. Thus, as I had decided to give this to you, as I believed that you would be the rightful owner of it, you would need to said your name aloud, in order to open the locket.

Try to figure things out as much as possible, and let me know about your findings when we met on Friday evening. Best of luck to you. Make sure to keep the locket safe.

I'll be expecting you after dinner at my office. Take care and have a nice day.

Regards from

Professor Albus Dumbledore

Hermione's heart was racing madly. She reread the letter again. She couldn't believed her luck. Her earlier conclusions were indeed true. Dumbledore had also discovered something about McKenna. The puzzle was beginning to fit together neatly. She never imagined that Dumbledore's family would ever have anything to do with McKenna. Dumbledore's autobiography never mentioned about this at all. Perhaps that Skeeta woman had failed to dig up these details earlier, she reasoned.

She smiled happily. Luck was really on her side now. With the help of Dumbledore, she could definitely complete her task more quickly and easily now. She was sure that Dumbledore would help her out, if he knew what was to become of the future of the wizarding world.

She picked up the locket once more, and clutched it tightly in her hands. Her palms were beginning to sweat. She hastily wiped it on her robes, and sat up straight.

She drew in a deep breath, and held up the locket to eye level.

"Merope Granger," she whispered. Nothing happened. She blinked and tried again. Still nothing happened.

She sighed in frustration. Why wouldn't it worked?

A thought suddenly crossed her mind, and a small smile started to play on her lips.

"I wonder…" she trailed off thoughtfully.

Taking another deep breath, she held up the locket more closely, and whispered: "Hermione Granger."

There was a faint click and the locket opened. Ah, it had worked at last! She should have thought about this earlier. She was after all Hermione Jean Granger, and not Merope Granger. Her insides cringed in disgust at the thought of her fake identity. Why must she choose such a disgusted name at all in the first place, she still wondered.

She took a deep breath, and gazed down at the locket.

In her surprise, she almost dropped the locket. She quickly clutched it tightly before it slipped out of her grasp.

There, staring at her with warm brown eyes and the same dazzling smile was none other than the Pink Lady. The same portrait which guarded her dormitory. She looked down more closely at the portrait in the locket. The Pink Lady looked the same as she had last seen her a few minutes ago. Hermione smiled.

"Ah, my lady. I never would have thought…" she trailed off once more, tracing the outline of the Pink Lady's gown with her fingers.

After staring at the Pink Lady for a few more moments. Hermione started to turn the locket over, to look for the gap that Dumbledore had mentioned it earlier. She found nothing at all, and was beginning to get frustrated once more.

Then, she remembered what Dumbledore had written in his letter, and took out her wand from her robe pocket.

"Engorgio!" she thought, and flicked her wand. The locket started to grow in size. When it was big enough, she waved her wand once more, and the spell ceased to take effect.

She looked once more at the Pink Lady, and something caught her eyes. There, on the pearl which the Pink Lady held, were some letters, engraved in green. She squinted more closely at it, holding the locket up to the light. Her eyebrows immediately shot up, and she blinked. She could not believed what she had just read.

"Why is this happening to me now?" she muttered softly.

She stared once more at the five tiny words engraved on the pink pearl in block letters: I OPENED AT THE CLOSE.

She frowned. "Why must I go through this again? Is this another form of sacrifice that I must make now, just like Harry?"

She remembered Dumbledore leaving the golden Snitch to Harry in his will. The Snitch had bore the same message on it, written in Dumbledore's own hand. For Harry, the "close" was when he decided that the prophecy should be fulfilled and he was going to die. Dumbledore had predicted this early, but Harry had only found out about it a few hours before his death. Back then, Hermione had tried everything she could to decipher the meaning of the five words written in the late Headmaster's thin and slanting handwriting, but her attempts remained fruitless. After he defeated the dark lord, Harry had explained everything to both Ron and Hermione. Hermione was shocked to learn about this at first, but Harry managed to calm her down by telling her that everything was over.

"How could Dumbledore do this to you, Harry?" Hermione had screamed angrily, tears welling up in her eyes. "He should not have kept this from you for such a long time."

Harry had smiled at her, and had hugged her tightly. He coaxed her gently by telling her that he did not mind at all now. At first, he was also shocked to learn about his fate. "But I figured that my death is going to happen sooner or later. The prophecy should be fulfilled. What Dumbledore and I myself didn't expect is that Voldemort's final horcrux is none other than me. This backfired the whole plan."

Hermione had cheered up a bit then. Nevertheless, she was still angry with Dumbledore's decision.

Now, as she sat cross-legged on her four-poster bed, she was surprised to find that the anger which she still felt towards the future Headmaster did not come at all. In fact, she felt relaxed and calm. Perhaps this was how Harry felt when he received the Snitch, she gathered. However, she could not help wondering whether her case was the same as Harry's case.

What was the "close" in her case? Will it be the day she killed Lord Voldemort and returned to her time? Where was the pearl of destiny anyway? It must be hidden somewhere, if it would be in her possession prior to the "close".

"When the task is completed, all is well and the pearl of destiny will appear," the words of Harperlindo McKenna which she had read in "The Theory of Time Travel" rang out clearly in her ears. This means that the pearl will be in her possession once she had completed the task. Hermione smiled, as this piece of information fit into the picture. So, the only thing she had to do now is complete the task as fast as possible, and face the "close", which could be anything. She decided to not think about it now. She would focus on completing her task first.

Taking another deep breath, she reached up to the top right corner of the locket, where she had just spotted the gap mentioned by Dumbledore. Carefully, she pulled the gap wider apart, and saw the roll of parchment mentioned earlier. She lifted it out of the locket gently, and undid the yellow ribbon which sealed the parchment together. She unrolled the parchment, and read the writing on it quickly. It was written in the same green ink and in the same neat hand, just as the recipe of the Draught of Destiny which she had found in Snape's book.

Her heart begins to race again. She reread the poem. Of course it made sense to her. She was the one to complete the task, which she had already known two days ago. From her interpretation, she gathered that she would have two options in completing the task which was bestowed upon her by the Draught of Destiny.

The first option would be what she had guessed earlier. She must kill young Voldemort before he was able to rise to power, and dominate the wizarding world. To her excitement, McKenna also suggested the appropriate way to do it in his poem. Hermione could not believe her luck. She would have to befriend Riddle, get close to him, gain his trust and obey his commands first. Then, she would kill him easily, as he would not suspect anything at all. She smiled at this proposition. In fact, it was even not necessary to get close to him, Hermione gathered. She could just maintained a low profile from now on, trying to avoid getting in his path as best as possible and pretending to be weak and give in to him more easily. Then, when the time came, she could kill him and return to where she belonged.

Over the past few days, she had worked out a few strategies of how to kill him. She figured that she would have a few options. Firstly, she could kill him when both of them were alone in the Heads' Dorm. She would do it the Muggle way; using a knife instead of a wand. She had no trouble at all with this, as she had tucked a small dagger along with her in her beaded bag before Harry, Ron and herself went for the mad hunt of Voldemort's horcruxes a year ago. She smiled at this thought. Perhaps that would work when he was asleep, she decided. She could just stab him, and then pretended not to know anything at all when the other professors asked her about it. That would be easy enough. She could just put up an innocent student façade, just as Riddle. He had thought her a lot for the past few days, she noted with some pride. She now roughly knew how to pull the strings well and how to gain the whole school's respect and trust. Nevertheless, she decided that she would not use this to her advantage, unless it was necessary to do so.

Another thought suddenly struck her. True enough she had no problem with her first possible option of eliminating the psycho. However, she still had not figured out how good was the young Voldemort's reflexes yet. He might pounce on her anytime when she tried to stab him, and she would not dare to risk the chance unless she was sure that it would succeed. She would have to size him up first by carefully observing his every move. Then, she would know how to go about her plan.

Her second option was to poison Riddle. She would use the Muggle method again, she gathered. Nobody would suspect a thing, as some poisons used by Muggles were not listed in the books at the library and was unknown to most of the wizarding world. She had researched on this during her time, and the only thing she needed to do was to check it again in the library later, to make sure that her research was indeed true and applied in this time period. In fact, she already had a very good idea what type of poison to use. She had various dangerous poisons stored in her beaded bag, and this would be an advantage, as she would not have to obtain the poison from elsewhere, or made it herself. It would be more difficult for the professor to gather sufficient evidence to pin it on her. They would not suspect her at all if she managed to play her cards well. She smiled at this thought. Perhaps some arsenic may be just what she needed to terminate the life of that psycho. She smiled a little at this thought. After all, it was not a very bad idea at all, as the wizarding world did not know about arsenic the last time she checked. Her plan might turn up just the way she hoped it would, and all her problems will be over. She felt overjoyed at this thought. However, at the same time, her insides cringed with disgust.

"Look what had become of me," she mocked herself. "I can't believed that I've turned into a cold-blooded murderer myself, planning the demise of a particular person."

"Oh stop it and shut up. He deserved to die. Look how many lives were lost back in your time. This is for The Greater Good, and you'll do it just fine," another small part of her countered.

Hermione huffed in frustration. She slammed her fists hard on the mattress of her bed, and ran her fingers through her bushy brown hair, which had already, began to get messy.

"Fine. I'll just do it," she told herself firmly. "After all, this is the task, and I need to get back. Call me selfish or whatever you liked. I don't care at all." She straightened up, and started to put the parchment back into the locket. She quietly closed the gap, and shrank the locket back to its original size.

As she flicked her wand to stop the shrinking spell once the locket had returned to its original size, another thought suddenly occurred to her. If she was to choose her second option of killing Riddle, she would have to figure out a way to slip the poison into his food or drink without him noticing it. She would have to plan how to do it properly. After all, it was more challenging than the first option, in her opinion. Nevertheless, she shoved this thought to the back of her mind for the time being. She would deal with these thoughts and conjure up possibilities later.

"Maybe I can just kill him when the time has come," she muttered to herself. "I'll just flick my wand and say the killing curse, that's all." Hermione decided that she would put the thought at rest for now. She would just let incidents played out as it is for the time being. She would ponder her options later when she met Dumbledore and share what she had discovered with him.

As she was just putting the locket back into the box, she suddenly remembered something else. What was it that McKenna had mentioned in that poem? Was there another option? She was sure she had missed something. Sighing, she once again repeated her actions just now. She enlarged the locket, pulls out the parchment again, and started to scan the poem with a more critical eye this time.

She read the first half of the poem again. She let out a laugh as she read it.

The task

Though easy as it seemed

May have to be achieved through a different method

For not all battles are fought the hard way.

"This is a battle that must be fought using the hard way," Hermione scoffed. "McKenna certainly had no idea how many innocent lives were lost. I can't see another way round this one."

She continued to scan the poem again. Another laugh escaped her mouth and this time, Hermione was unable to control herself any longer. She burst into fits of giggles, clutching her stomach as she laughed hard. Tears were beginning to trickle down her cheeks.

"Ha! What a funny proposition, McKenna. I don't even think that this is possible. After all, you never met You-Know-Who before, right?" she laughed harder. She read the few lines which had amused her again.

Revenge is sweet and vengeance is venomous

But above all, the strongest emotions still lie

Waiting to be explored;

Where trust is essential and friendship is built

And truths are discovered and unleashed

Love will then unfold

And bond the light and the dark together.

"Love? Bah! This is simply out of the way. Just tell me when he ever has this emotion in him. If he does, he would not have fallen to his death so easily," Hermione said, suppressing her giggles. Her stomach hurts from laughing so hard just now. She brushed away the tears on her cheeks with the back of her hands. "There's no way that I'll ever fall in love with a cold-blooded murderer and psychopathic snake. Just think about that." She laughed lightly.

"Harry will be in St. Mungos with a severe brain damage if he knew about this. Ron will definitely crack up too."

With another chuckle, she rolled up the parchment, stuffed it back into the small gap in the locket, and shrank it again to its original size. She thought of where to put it so that Riddle would not have the chance to come across it. After all, Dumbledore had asked her to keep the locket safe. After pondering her options, she finally decided to wear the locket. It would always be with her, and she would know if it was missing easily enough. She would put a charm on it to hide it from view, and hid the locket under her robes. No one would notice it, unless they looked close enough. The charm that she planned to put on the locket would help to create the effect which she hoped for.

Casually, she lifted the locket out of the box, where she had put it earlier, and put the chain around her neck. She fastened the clasp of the necklace, and let the locket fell down until it touched her chest. It dangled beautifully and glimmered as the sunlight from the open window reflected upon it. She gazed down dreamily at it, admiring its effect on her. The glittering emerald gems matched her fair and slightly tanned complexion perfectly. She smiled at this.

Just as before, Hermione felt a sudden warmness enveloped her as the locket touched her skin. The warmness began to spread throughout her whole body, and she felt that she was charged with energy. She could feel the magic inside her crackling strongly around her. A wonderful sensation washed over her. She smiled. Perhaps she was really the rightful owner of the locket after all, as Dumbledore put it.

She tucked the locket under her dress and quickly casted the charm on it. Then, she stuffed the black tattered box into her beaded bag, and straightened up. She swung her legs over the bed, and paced the room for a while, to relieve the cramps in her muscles which had started as a result of sitting down too long on the bed in a fixed position.

Then, she flopped down once more on the bed, and glanced at her wristwatch. She still had another two hours before dinner. She could do with a few quick readings, she noted.

She tiptoed to the bedroom door, and opened it quietly. She padded across the landing softly, and peered down into the commonroom. Riddle was no where in sight. Sighing with relieve, she returned to the bedroom and pulled out McKenna's journal and the three books which she had duplicated from Riddle earlier. She figured that she would read the three books quickly first. After all, she was not so interested in dark magic, and was merely planning to take a quick look at what the psycho was reading now.

However, Hermione soon found out that she was wrong. She found various interesting spells as she thumbed through the three thick and dusty tomes. Unable to resist the temptation, she took out a few rolls of parchment and a bottle of ink. She grabbed a quill from within her schoolbag, and started to pen down as many spells as possible. After all, it might become handy in the days to come in helping her to complete her task.

"Oh my God, this may take ages," she sighed frustrated. She put down her quill after realizing that she had used up twelve rolls of parchment without knowing it. She stuffed the first two books which she had already managed to summarized back into her beaded bag. Then, she glanced at the third tome, and shook her head.

"No, this can wait until later," she muttered to herself, putting "Secrets of the Darkest Arts", which was the final tome which she had not yet read away into her beaded bag. She figured that she would read McKenna's journal first, as it might help her to understand more about his theory. Furthermore, she would be able to discuss it with Dumbledore when they meet later in the evening after dinner. To top it all, her fingers were beginning to ache, as a result of writing too much just now. She flexed them irritably, and huffed angrily, before calming down.

She settled herself more comfortably on the bed this time to avoid her muscles from getting cramped again. She lifted up the journal, and ran her fingers across its dusty binding. She traced the title, which was printed with golden letters on the cover of the small book lightly with her fingers.

"Potions and Their Greatest Potential," she whispered. "Harperlindo McKenna."

She opened the book, and thumbed through the pages. It was blank, as she had known it would be. Remembering what she had to do, she reached out her finger, and deliberately ran it across the sharp edges of the pages. Trickles of blood were beginning to appear on the pages, as the paper cut into her skin. She let the blood drop onto the first page of the journal, before wiping her hands on her robes. With a flick of her wand, the wound immediately healed.

She waited patiently for a few seconds for the blood to disappear. She closed her eyes, and counted until thirty. Then, she opened them again.

Joy overtook her, as writing had began to appear on the pages. In no sooner than five minutes, all the blank pages were filled with writing, and Hermione squealed happily. She picked up the journal and started to read.

Just as his first journal, this book was really interesting. The first part of it explained how McKenna had brewed the Draught of Destiny. Hermione could even find the same recipe written in green ink on one of the pages of the journal. She scanned it once more, before smiling and turning to the next page.

In the next three pages, McKenna had explained how the Draught of Destiny worked more precisely than before. Hermione read this quickly, as she found that most of it had already been explain in the previous book. She scanned the pages with a matter-of-fact manner, before turning to the next page.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise when she read the title printed on top of the page.

"The Pearl of Destiny," it read.

Excitedly, she started to read the text on the page, making sure that every word sinks in deeply into her mind.

In the previous chapter, explanation had been given about how the Draught of Destiny worked. Some may wonder and asked the question of whether there was anything that can complement this wonderful draught. In other words, there would be questions or thoughts of whether there was anything to help the particular time traveler get back to his or her time after completing the task and after achieving the desired destiny.

Throughout the years, I've tried to research this myself, and tried to develop the thing which complements my greatest creation of the century. I'm happy to discover that my attempts were not fruitless after all. Towards the end of my life, I've finally managed to create another of my greatest inventions of the century. This particular object is known as the Pearl of Destiny, and it would be exactly the object that complemented the wonderful draught that I've made.

This ancient pearl was originally discovered in the dark forest of Albania, where I had traveled to during my old age. I discovered it in a beautiful flowing creek, which ran throughout the heart of the dark forest. The waters were glowing beautifully, emitting a pink glow. I noticed the pearl at first glance, placed on top of a large boulder at the center of the creek. I had retrieved it after making sure that it was safe, and after countless researches, I finally managed to gather that this pearl had a very great power indeed and might be useful to me. Thus, I had come up with an idea. I would not bored all of you with the details of my idea. Thus, all you need to know is that I created the Pearl of Destiny to be the complement object of my wonderful draught, and this still remained the case for the time being, as I had already mentioned above.

I had stored the pearl in a place where no one would be able to find it. It is only when the task is completed that the pearl would appear and all would be right once more. The person who was sent to complete the task would get to return to his or her own time, as the pearl will only appeared at the "close".

The task bestowed upon that particular person would be set by the pearl of destiny itself, as I've created it with the power to detect any flaws in the current timeline, and the pearl would set out the task for the person. Various events which were not originally there will also be happening, as the pearl created them for the purpose of aiding the particular traveler to complete the task.

However, the uses of the Pearl of Destiny were not limited to the above. I've created this object so that it would be able to aid the wizarding world as best as possible. It is through various careful research and long nights that I've finally discovered the true properties of my own greatest inventions. One would never believe that such a pearl would hold many wonderful powers other than that mentioned above.

The page ended there. Hermione flipped to the next page and started to read again. Her heart was racing madly, and she tried hard to focus on what she was reading. A sharp intake of breath escaped her when her eyes scanned the first paragraph of the page.

One of the hidden powers of the pearl is it could heal almost any form of disorder, especially those which were inflicted by very strong and dark curses or magic. One of the most dangerous form of disorder which the pearl [and only this pearl, I assure you [can heal is a form of disorder called Horcruxotoma Soultosis, or better known as Soul Splitting Disorder. This is a form of very dark and advanced magic, which I have no desire to disclose in this volume. However, I'll only say here that this is a form of disease which is caused when one decided to create a horcrux, which is….

Hermione heard a soft click from behind her.

"Damn," she cursed silently, slamming the book shut. "Why must he be back so early?"

Hastily, she stuffed the journal back into her beaded bag. Her heart was pounding harder than before. She never imagined that the pearl hold so many interesting powers. What the hell was Horcruxotoma Soultosis, she wondered. She wished she could read and find out more. She gathered from her readings just now that it had something to do with horcruxes.

"Was this just a coincidence?" she muttered to herself. "Everything seemed pretty much related. How does McKenna know about horcruxes anyway?"

Footsteps could be heard from across the room. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Riddle, striding with a confident gait to his side of the room. His dark hair was neatly parted as always, but he looked tired. When he reached his bed, he dumped his schoolbag onto the floor, and straightened up. His robes were as smooth as always, without a single crease. The setting sun from outside reflected upon his Head Boy badge, proudly pinned on his chest, making it glitter slightly.

Hermione straightened up, and pretended to fake a yawn. Then, she started to head out of the room.

She had just taken a few steps towards the door, when the young dark lord held up a hand, and beckoned her forward.

Hermione raised an eyebrow in surprise. What was he up to now, she wondered. He was not going to curse her again now, was he? Nevertheless, she hastily feels for her wand which was still in her pocket before walking confidently to where he was standing. She figured that she would not back down so easily this time. She would fight him if he tried to curse her again.

She stood a few feet away from Riddle, and gave him an enquiring look. His face was still as emotionless as always.

Riddle held out a roll of parchment towards Hermione. She gazed at it for a while hesitantly. What was he playing at, she wondered. She did not dare touch the parchment just yet. She had to make sure that it was not cursed or something likes that. Hermione Jean Granger was definitely not risking any chances when she was in the presence of a psychopathic soon-to-be dark lord.

Riddle stared at her, and then smirked. He strode across the room, and thrust the parchment into Hermione's hands. Hastily, with her swift and quick reflexes, Hermione leap out of the way and threw the parchment which Riddle had thrust towards her onto the floor.

The young dark lord gave her another look, and then smirked again. An amused look passed over his face. He chuckled softly.

"Granger," he said, in the same smooth and silky voice which she had heard him use in front of the professors. "Whatever is the matter with you?"

She glared at him and did not respond to his question.

"Just pick up the parchment and read it. I don't give out bomb letters, you know?"

Riddle walked a few more paces towards her. Hermione started to back away, and made no attempt at all to pick up the parchment.

"Just pick it up, you stupid and insufferable girl!" Riddle was beginning to lose his patience as the seconds ticked by.

Hermione's insides were boiling. How dare that psycho insult her by calling her stupid and insufferable? She glared furiously at Riddle, and did not move from her spot.

"Enough of that nonsense now. Stop this instant before I lose my patience!" Riddle snapped suddenly, clenching his fists.

Hermione just ignored him and backed away further towards the nearest wall.

"I'm only giving you your patrolling schedule, girl. You'll be starting your duty as Head Girl on next week, together with me. So, you'll need to have a copy of this. What did you think I'm giving you, girl?" Riddle forced out, still clenching his fists.

Hermione felt stupid, and started to blush. "Of course. Why hadn't I thought of this earlier?" she scolded herself. Why had she acted so impulsively just now? She could just take the parchment and get out of there. Now, Riddle would definitely mock her for her silly actions just now.

Managing to find her voice back finally, Hermione managed to said in a low voice, "Oh."

Riddle's smirk widened.

"What do you think I'm going to do with you, girl? Curse you again?" he mocked. "Tsk, tsk. Such a pity, wouldn't you say? Such brains as yours are too mushy sometimes, you know."

Hermione remained silent. She tried as hard as she could to not lounge forward and punch that psycho. He was getting on her nerves now, and she hoped she would not have to hex him sooner. She clenched her teeth, and closed her eyes for a moment, before opening them again.

"I'll not waste my time with you any longer, girl. Take the parchment, and follow your schedule. I'll already worked out all your shifts. You'll be patrolling all the corridors together with me every single night. Headmaster Dippet already got a copy of this, so there is no need for you to worry about it. I've taken the liberty to hand it in earlier to him on this morning, and he was pleased with what I had planned. Do you understand?"

Hermione forced herself to nod, and then quickly looked away.

"Remember your mission?" she mocked herself. "Just ignore him and keep a low profile."

Riddle's voice jolted her away from her thoughts again. With all the patience that she could muster, she looked up and stared straight at the impassive and emotionless face in front of her.

"And one more thing before I let you go," Riddle said, advancing towards her, "Remember my warning, Granger. Do not undermine my authority or cross paths with me. The little incident two days ago had done enough damage to my reputation already. I'll appreciate it if such things never happened again. Am I clear on this?"

Hermione's temper was flaring now. How dare that psycho mocked her and threatened her again? She was not going to back away this time.

She finally exploded. She already had enough of this.

With three long strides, she crossed the room, and picked up the parchment from the floor. She unrolled it, read it quickly and stuffed it into her robe pocket. Then, she stood with her arms crossed, and glared at Riddle again.

"Answer me, girl. And don't you dare give me that look ever again!" Riddle's voice was dangerously raised now.

Hermione took a deep breath before opening her mouth.

"Mr. Riddle, I'll like to clarify a few things here with you. Firstly, as you've so nicely put it, I admit that my brains are sometimes mushy, especially after enduring two rounds of the Cruciatus curse. Therefore, I'm sorry for my…irrational behavior just now," she started. Riddle glowered at her. Before he could cut in, she continued.

"Next, as Head Girl, I've the responsibility of ensuring that the school is well managed. So, I'm obliged to patrol the corridors along with you. However, one thing you must know is that I would not tolerate your behaviour of bossing me around, as though I'm one of your servants. With that said, I'll carry out my duties as I pleased, and I assure you that it would not run out of the boundaries of the school rules, in case you're wondering."

"How dare you?" Riddle growled, and started to advanced towards her.

"I haven't finished yet. I also do not tolerate your threats, as you so nicely put them, Mr. Riddle. Who do you think you are? You cannot control everybody's life, you know. I know you've already had most of the professors wrap around your little fingers. What with the charming façade that you always put up in front of them? In their eyes, you'll always be the charismatic and dashing Tom Riddle, Head boy of Hogwarts. Most of them did not see your true persona yet. I don't care how you bossed other people around, or how you manipulate others. I'm telling you now once and for all that I…will…not…..tolerate…..this…..from…..you. Is that clear?"

Riddle had pulled out his wand from his robe pocket by now.

"I see. Trying to play with fire, eh?" he said in a slow and dangerous voice which sent shivers down Hermione's spine. "Let's see how is it then. Cru…"

Hastily, she pulled out her wand, and started to dodge the curse which was flying towards her.

"Protego!" she shouted before Riddle managed to finish his curse. Her shield was stronger than she had expected. She had worked on it to strengthen it last week in the commonroom with Harry and Ron back in her time period, and it had worked out well.

Riddle looked surprised and stood transfixed at his spot for a moment. Then, he recovered quickly and gripped his wand more firmly in his hand.

"I'll teach you once and for all now, girl! Let's see how wills this end, shall we?" Riddle said, laughing his high-pitched cold laughter.

"Crucio!"

Hermione dodged again, and the curse impacted with the wall, blasting it into pieces.

The room was now filled with dust and Hermione coughed loudly as some of the dust entered her mouth. Riddle took this opportunity to fire another dark curse at her. Hermione managed to dodged it again.

Pointing her wand at the nearest ornament, which was placed as decoration on the opposite side of the room, Hermione shouted, "Wingardium leviosa!" The porcelain vase immediately soared a few inches into the air, and Hermione levitated it towards where Riddle was standing.

Riddle looked up just in time, and managed to blast the vase into pieces before it managed to hit his head. The broken glass littered the floor, and Riddle stepped away quickly as Hermione fired a stinging hex at him.

"Expeliarmus!" Riddle casted.

Hermione's shield was still up, and she backed away further into the wall.

"Petrificus totalus!" she shouted. Riddle deflected the spell with a lazy flick of his wand.

"Stupefy!" she casted next, aiming at Riddle. With quick reflexes, he once again managed to dodge her stunner and deflected it with another flick of his wand.

"Impedimenta!" she tried again. Riddle was able to dodge the curse again, and it impacted on the opposite wall, shattering it into pieces. Splinters were flying in every direction now, and the room was in a mess.

After some time, Hermione's shield was beginning to break as Riddle hurled a dark curse at her, which she did not recognize at all. The blinding flash of white light impacted with her shield, and absorbed it completely. With panic, Hermione quickly casted it again. Another dark curse fly towards her, and Hermione dodged it just in time.

"Levicorpus!" she shouted, but Riddle managed to deflect it with a lazy flick of his wand yet again.

Her shield disappeared for the second time, as Riddle sent that blinding flash of white light at her again. Hermione was just trying to conjure up another shield and thinking what spells to hurl at the psycho this time, when Riddle flicked his wand again.

A purple light headed towards her. With horror, she realized that it was the same purple light which Antonine Dolohov had used upon her. The scars on her chest still burned from the effects of this curse and it would remain in her life forever.

With anger boiling up in her, Hermione flicked her wand and hurled as many dark curses as she could remember at Riddle, all the while trying to maintain her shield. The both of them continue to duel in that way for a few more minutes. Furniture's in the room were now shattered, and the window was already broken. The glass littered on the floor, and Hermione was careful to avoid stepping on them when she backed away further into the wall.

"Crucio!" Hermione bellowed.

Riddle waved his wand in a complicated manner and the curse change its course and hit another painting in the room. He laughed again.

"Trying to use unforgivables, eh?" he mocked. "Let's see more, shall we? After all, I would not stop you from showing your hidden talents. Tsk, tsk. Who knows Hogwarts had selected a very dark Head girl indeed, don't you think so?"

"Crucio!" Hermione tried again. Once again, Riddle deflected the curse, and it shattered another window in the room.

"No, you don't deserve to be Head Girl after all. Dippet will have a fit if he knew about this. What do you think he would do to you, girl?" Riddle continued to mock.

Hermione continued to throw hexes at him. Her hand was beginning to ache, as a result of gripping her wand so tightly and bringing it down with a great force every time she flicked it.

Suddenly, without warning, with a quick flick of his wand, Riddle managed to crash Hermione's shield. Hermione tried to raise her wand to conjure the shield again, but Riddle was much quicker. She saw him flicked his wand once in her direction. She tried to dodge, but her legs suddenly gave way, and she fell onto the floor with a loud thud. Her breath was knocked out of her, and she closed her eyes. She waited for the curse to hit her, but surprisingly, nothing happened.

Moments later, Hermione felt a warm and tinkling sensation running up her body. She felt happy and wonderful, and her body started to relax.

"Come to me," a smooth voice in her head said.

"Huh? Where?" a small part of her wondered.

"Here. I'm right here. Just walk forward. Come on."

She looked up, and was entranced by a pair of midnight blue eyes. Such beautiful eyes, she thought. She was mesmorised by them, and continued to gaze dreamily into them.

"Come here," the voice in her head was back.

"Of course," she told herself softly.

"Wait, what am I doing?" another part of her asked. "This seems not right at all."

"Come to me now. Come on. I'm waiting," the voice in her head said again.

"Okay," she told herself. Her legs started to move on their own accord. She stopped in front of Riddle, and looked into his midnight blue eyes. They were so captivating.

"Now, that's a good girl. Give me your wand," the smooth voice in her head was back again.

"My wand? Why?" she wondered.

"Just give me your wand," the voice continued to taunt her thoughts.

"Why am I doing this?" she wondered. She looked at Riddle again.

"Hold out your right hand. Ah, that's a good girl. Now, look at me."

She felt her grip loosening on her wand as she held out her right hand.

"What am I doing?" she thought again.

And then, it hit her. She tried to back away, but her legs would not budge. The curse was too strong.

"Stand still girl!" the voice was now angry.

"No, I won't!" she thought angrily, trying to move again. Her legs still would not budge.

"Now, that's better. Loosen your grip on your wand."

Hermione felt her fingers relaxed a bit. She tried to stop it again, but she finds that her fingers were moving on their own accord.

"Let go now."

She felt her wand slid out of her grasp a few moments later. She tried to scream, but no sound come out of her mouth.

"Look at me." The voice was back again.

Unable to resist it, Hermione looked at Riddle straight in the eye. She quickly looked away after that, but her eyes strayed back to focus towards Riddle on their own accord.

She saw Riddle waved his wand again.

"Imperio strengtenum!" Hermione heard him muttered.

Her body felt more relaxed than before. The wonderful sensation in her muscles was now so soothing, that she leaned into it gratefully. Her logical thoughts were wiped out of her mind again, and her brain grew fuzzy and her eyes were slightly unfocused.

"Look at me now!"

"Why am I doing this?" she still wondered. "I'm not suppose to do this, right?"

"Just look at me. Trust me. I won't hurt you."

"Wait a minute," Hermione thought. "Why am I listening to him? He's Lord Voldemort."

Unknown to Hermione, the gems on the locket under her shirt began to glow. Hermione felt a sense of warmth enveloping her, as the glow grew brighter and brighter. And then, the gems stopped glowing.

A wave of energy coursed through her body. Her senses were slowly returning to her. Her vision becomes more focused and her brain was beginning to clear again.

Her strength was beginning to return to her again. Suddenly, Hermione was roughly jolted away from her thoughts. The tinkling sensation was beginning to fade from her body.

"Look at me. Now." The voice was stronger than before.

"No!" Hermione shouted, and immediately, she was regaining all her senses again. How dare that psycho do this on her? He had used the Imperius curse on her just now. No wonder she felt nothing at all when he flicked his wand. She had succumbed to the effects of the curse the first time he used it. She figured that he must have strengthened the curse the second time he casted it. However, she still wondered how she had managed to break his hold on her. So far, only Harry had managed to resist the curse.

Riddle was staring at her, unable to hide the shocked look plastered on his face.

Hermione was furious now. With all the strength she could muster, she reached forward and punched Riddle hard on the nose.

"How dare you, Tom Marvolo Riddle? Don't…ever…dare…pull…this…on…me…again…" she said, punching his nose several times. There was a loud cracking sound, as Riddle's nose broke, and blood began to trickle down his face.

Riddle hissed in pain, and reached up to grab his nose. His grip on Hermione's wand loosened, and she quickly snatched it from him.

With full hatred, Hermione raised her wand and directed it towards Riddle. All thoughts of maintaining a low profile were gone now. If Riddle wanted to play it this way, she would let him go ahead with it, and she is determined to fight him back.

"Sectumsempra!" she shouted, waving her wand in Riddle's face. Too occupied with masking his pain and taken by surprise, Riddle had no time to deflect her curse this time. His wand slipped out of his grip just as the curse fly towards him. A deep gash appeared on Riddle's right cheek, and he hissed in pain.

Hermione quickly turned away, and stormed out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her. She ran out of the dormitory, and sprinted down the corridors. She had no desire to be cursed by Riddle in case he decided to go after her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione ran and ran without stopping, until she reached Dumbledore's office. She was out of breath by now, and leaned against the wall to catch her breath. She looked around the corridor. Riddle had decided not to pursuit her just yet, she gathered. He would probably curse her again later, she was certain about it. After what she had done to him, he would not go easy on her any longer, she gathered.

Tears started to well up in her eyes. Unable to hold back any longer, she started to sob softly. Why must this be so difficult, she wondered. Couldn't she just go back to her time now? She was really not prepared for this. The lioness sprit in her had faded now, just as quickly as it had came earlier. She felt crippled and weak now. She wished that she could just dug a hole and hid in it now.

When she had managed to calm her nerves, Hermione knocked on Dumbledore's door. Tears were still streaming down her cheeks, and she tried as best as possible to wipe them away.

"Come in," she could hear Dumbledore's warm voice from within. She pushed open the door, and stepped into the small and cozy office. She looked around her. Dumbledore's small office was crowded with his trinkets, which were all buzzing merrily around the room. Fawkes the phoenix was perching on one of the top shelves on the chest of drawers next to Dumbledore's large desk.

"Ah, Ms. Granger. I see that you're quite early today. Have you taken your dinner?"

"Yes," she quickly lied. "Professor, we…"

"Sit down, Ms. Granger."

Blinking back her tears, she pulled out a chair, and sat down. It was only then that Dumbledore looked up, and noticed that she was crying.

"Why, may I ask what is the matter, Ms. Granger?" the old professor said, his expression softening.

Grief overcomes her again, and this time, Hermione let it take its tow on her. She started to cry. She could not bear it any longer. Riddle had made her life miserable ever since she had got here. She had been cursed trice, if she was to count the incident in the DADA class, and had been threatened twice. She could not endure this any longer.

Dumbledore pulled her into a tight embrace. He rubbed small circles on her back, and started to rock her.

"Now, now, calm down, Ms. Granger. Just tell me what happened."

Hermione continued to sob in Dumbledore's arms for a few more minutes. The old professor holds her close to him, all the while murmuring soothing words of comfort in her ears.

Finally, after managing to pull herself together, Hermione straightened up, and gave Dumbledore an apologetic look.

"I'm so sorry, professor. I should not have walk in like this. Please excuse my outburst just now."

"Not to worry, girl. I don't mind at all. Crying is a good thing indeed. Do you know that it made you better after you let out your sorrow?"

"Yeah. It certainly feels better. Thank you, professor," she said, giving Dumbledore a half smile. Dumbledore returned her smile, his blue eyes twinkling warmly.

"Professor, I cannot do this any longer. I must tell you everything now. I've already figured out my task."

The words tumbled out of her mouth so quickly, that Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"Oh?" he asked the hint of interest clearly evident in his voice. His blue eyes were twinkling madly with excitement behind his half moon spectacles.

"Professor, I would appreciate it if you listened to my explanation patiently and try not to interrupt me as I go along. I'll tell you everything from the beginning…"

"Tut, tut. Ms. Granger, before you begin, may I remind you the rules pertaining to…"

"Oh, never mind about that. McKenna's theory negates the usual effect of time travel."

Dumbledore looked at her questioningly, and his face lit up. He then broke into a broad smile.

"Ah. So, it turned up that my conclusions were indeed true after all," Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair, and crossing his arms.

"I'll explain it to you as we go along, professor. Please listen to me. I hope that I'll be able to tell you the whole story smoothly before I had another breakdown."

Dumbledore nodded with understanding, and urged her to continue.

"Okay," Hermione said, clearing her throat and leaning back in her chair.

"Would you care for a lemon drop before we begin?" Dumbledore asked, holding out a small bowl containing the particular candy towards Hermione.

Hermione smiled, and nodded. Some things never change, she noted. She took one lemon drop from the bowl and popped it into her mouth. The sweet taste of the candy lingered on her tongue, and made her feel better. She cheered up slightly.

"First of all, my name is not Merope Granger, as you've probably suspected," Hermione said, giving Dumbledore a knowing smile. "My real name is Hermione Jean Granger, and I'm Muggle-born, not a half-blood as I told Headmaster Dippet earlier."

Dumbledore nodded.

"However, the story that I told you in the classroom on the first day you cornered me was indeed true. I'll add in the missing details of the story now, to give you a clearer picture of the situation, professor.

As I had already told you, I came from the year 1998, which was fifty-four years from now. Nineteen years ago from my time, a particular Divination professor had made a prophecy concerning the fate of two persons."

"Prophecy?" Dumbledore asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, indeed. I would not bore you with the details of the professor who made the predicament. What you need to know is that the professor made the predicament without knowing it herself. The prophecy stated that "neither should live while the others survived"."

Dumbledore frowned, and did not say anything at all. Hermione could tell that he was getting more and more interested.

"It all started when one of the persons who were bound by the prophecy heard about it, and tried to destroy the other person, as he thought he would be able to survive that way. This was none other than the person who would caused grief to others in years to come to the whole wizarding world.

On a particular night, the person, better known in our time as You-Know-Who, or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, went to Godric's Hollow, and try to kill his so-called challenge. He failed, and lost all his powers. Some believed that he disappeared. The boy who he tried to kill was my best friend, and he was famous because he was able to survive the killing curse. He was known as the boy-who-lived in our time."

Hermione launched into the story about Harry's life, making it as short as possible, and then started to talk about herself attending Hogwarts and her various adventures together with Harry and Ron. All the while, Dumbledore listened to her quietly, without asking a single question. He smiled when he learned that it was his own self who had taken Harry to his uncle, and had known about what was to become of Harry's future.

When she had finished, Dumbledore looked thoughtful, and closed his eyes for a moment. He then took off his half moon spectacles and begins to polish them slowly.

"Ah," he said slowly, "I should have known. It seemed that my suspicions were indeed true. Horcruxes, you say? He made seven of it?"

"Yes. And we destroyed all of them. Harry was his last one, you see. He made it without knowing about it. His plan backfired, as he had destroyed his last horcrux himself."

"I see," Dumbledore said. "And love had helped all the way, eh?"

"Ah yes," Hermione said, her expression softening. "Love is so powerful, and if Lily did not sacrifice for her son, I could not imagine what would become of the wizarding world. You-Know-Who could not understand love, and how it worked together with magic. This was why he had failed."

"Hmm," Dumbledore said.

There were a few moments of silence, as Dumbledore processed what she had just told him. Dumbledore tapped his fingers on his desk thoughtfully, and frowned.

Finally, he looked up at Hermione, and his expression turned quite serious. He reached for the bowl of candy, and popped another lemon drop into his mouth. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Ms. Granger, after hearing your story, I think I've a pretty good idea who are we talking about here. However, I'll still want to ask you about it, to confirm my suspicions."

"Ah professor. I think I know what are you going to ask me now. And my answer is yes."

"So, it was really Tom Marvolo Riddle then?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, he was indeed You-Know-Who. He rarely used his real name in our time though. He goes by a different name, which he had created himself."

"Oh? And how was that possible?"

Hermione flicked her wand, and a red ribbon began to appear from the tip of it. She moved her wand, and traced out the letters TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE in the air.

Then, she flicked her wand once more and produces another ribbon. This time she wrote I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.

"Lord Voldemort?" Dumbledore said slowly.

"Yes. It means "flight from death", and it suited his persona well, as he was afraid of dying. He wanted to be immortal, that's why he made horcruxes and wanted the Philosopher's Stone so badly."

Dumbledore let this information sink in slowly. Then, he asked: "What happened to him in the end?"

"Well, he died. Harry killed him."

She started to tell Dumbledore the ending of her story. After finishing it, she let out a sigh of relief. Finally, the burden had been lifted off her shoulders. She would no longer felt so tight inside anymore.

"Now, after hearing your story, I suggest we start straightaway to discuss your task," Dumbledore said, conjuring two large goblets. "May I offer you a drink before we begin the next session, Ms. Granger? Perhaps some butter beer or some tea?"

"I would love some tea, professor," Hermione said. Dumbledore flicked his wand, and a steaming teapot appeared in front of them. He poured the tea out into the goblets, and handed one of them to Hermione.

"Sorry about this. I've run out of teacups, you see. I just lent my tea set to Madam McCarthy, and I had not bothered to conjure more teacups for now. I hope you don't mind, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said.

Hermione nodded in understanding. "I don't mind a bit, professor," she added with a half smile. "This is just fine for me."

Dumbledore smiled and sipped his tea.

Hermione took a long sip from her cup before putting it down on the table.

"Have you got the locket?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes. I planned to wear it, so that it'll always be with me."

"Ah, very good indeed. Now, since you have figured out your task, care to enlightened me about it?"

"Of course. I would be honoured to do so, professor," she said, and started her story. She begins with the discovery of McKenna's first journal, and how she had nicked the second journal from Riddle three days ago. Dumbledore merely gave her a quizzical look as she rambled on. Dumbledore listened intently to her, and did not interrupt her while she rattled on continuously.

"So, after you sent me this locket, and after I've read the message on the parchment stuffed in the gap, I think I know what I'm supposed to do to change the timeline."

"Indeed, my dear. Care to share it with me?" Dumbledore asked, giving Hermione a knowing smile. Hermione somehow had the feeling that the old professor had knew all along about everything, but nevertheless she still thought that it would be appropriate to tell Dumbledore what she had learned.

She started to explain about the poem written on the piece of parchment found in the locket. Then, she told Dumbledore which option she choused.

For some reason, the old professor grew quiet after hearing what she had said. He seemed to be deep in thought, placing the tips of his fingers together and creasing his forehead in concentration.

"Ms. Granger, perhaps you should consider the other option?" he finally asked, without looking at Hermione. Hermione noticed that Dumbledore looked quite sad now.

"Professor, you don't understand. You haven't seen his full potential yet. It was so terrible. He was definitely not capable of loving anyone; he was emotionless!" Hermione tried to keep her voice down as best as possible. After all, Dumbledore had made her slightly irritated by suggesting that she try the second option, which she knew would be impossible and useless.

"Don't be so pessimistic, my dear girl. Why not give it a try?"

"Professor…"

Dumbledore held up his hand to stop her before she was able to continue her protest.

"Listen to me, Ms. Granger. Not all battles are fought the hard way, you know. Sometimes, the strongest emotion would be able to yield the greatest power in winning a battle. As you have told me just now, he never had experienced love in his life before. In other words, love is a foreign concept to him, and he did not understand what is it like or how does it felt like to be loved. Perhaps you're sent back here to teach him how to love and made him experienced it. Then, a brighter future would await the wizarding world. Shedding blood and taking lives should be used as a last resort."

Hermione processed what Dumbledore had just said in a few moments of silence. She still thought that it was impossible to make that psycho experience love. After what he had just done to her, she did not think that it would work out as Dumbledore had so simply put it.

"Professor, I'm afraid I cannot handle this."

"I think you'll do it just fine, my dear. Just be patient, and have the will power to continue trying. Don't give up easily." Dumbledore's words were somehow soothing and comforting. Hermione felt slightly at ease.

"Would it really be possible? Can someone turn from the dark side to the light side overnight? Bah! I don't think so," she scoffed inwardly.

As though he had read her thoughts, Dumbledore said: "Sometimes we must believe in impossible miracles, you know."

"Miracle?" Hermione scoffed again. Dumbledore was really starting to piss her off now. Why can't he see thing from her point of view? That psycho was already very dangerous, and she figured that it would be difficult to make him turn over a new leaf.

However, Hermione did not want to hurt Dumbledore. He had tried his best to help her after all. So, she tried to control her temper, and pondered what to say next.

Finally, after choosing her words carefully, she said in a low voice: "I still think that it is impossible to do this, professor. Nevertheless, I decided to give it a try. If it did not work, then I'm left with no other choice than to kill him."

Dumbledore gave her a half smile. "All right. If this was really impossible, than I'm afraid killing him will be the best way to correct the flaw mentioned by McKenna."

"Fine. Let's try it for two to three months. If it cannot work out, then I'll start to plan his demise."

Dumbledore nodded briefly in understanding. "Yes, I'm afraid that this would be the case. It is for The Greater Good."

"Yeah, I know," Hermione said. She watched Dumbledore's glum expression for another minute before looking away.

Deep down inside, Hermione wished that she had not make the suggestion just now. She wished that she can kill the psycho right at this very moment. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself.

For the next few minutes, Dumbledore and Hermione chatted about other things lightly. Hermione was glad that Dumbledore never mentioned anything more about her task. She did not wish to discuss the topic again herself.

"Ah, I think I should not keep you more longer than I was supposed to, Ms. Granger. It's already past curfew hour. You better get back to your dormitory before your other counterpart gets suspicious."

"Oh no," Hermione screamed inwardly. "I would not go back now, not after what I did to that psycho. He would probably curse me into oblivion if I return to the dormitory now."

Dumbledore stood up, and started to walk to the door. Reluctantly, Hermione got up from her seat, and walked slowly towards where Dumbledore was standing. She had preferred not to tell Dumbledore earlier that Riddle had cursed her twice. She figured that it would be not much point in doing so, as Dumbledore cannot do much to help her. She would just have to face this herself.

"So, I'll see you next week, professor?" she asked in a voice which she hoped was not too weak.

"Oh, I don't think that will be necessary. We should meet again three months from now, to evaluate whether what you opted had work out well. Then, we'll see how to take things from there, shall we?" asked Dumbledore, still smiling at her.

"All right, professor. We'll see how things turned up," Hermione managed to force out.

"Oh, before I forgot, here's your pass to the restricted section of the library, as promised," Dumbledore said, waving his wand and summoning a roll of parchment from the neat stack on his desk.

Hermione took the parchment from Dumbledore and thanked him. Her heart skipped with joy. At last, she would be able to do more research on McKenna's theory [if there was indeed anything at all]. She still had to read up on the journal and the third tome which she had duplicated from Riddle. In fact, she should even check out her early theory of Muggle poisons, just to be sure of it and to put her thoughts at ease.

"Good night, professor," she said, before stepping out of the office.

"Good night, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said quietly, before slowly closing the door of his office.

Hermione exhaled deeply, and then started to head up to the seventh floor corridor. She had no intention to go back to her dormitory just yet. She was not ready for another round of torturing from that psycho. What she really needed now was a peaceful and quiet place to rest, and to calm her nerves. She was still shaken from her duel with Riddle just now. She knew just the perfect place to go. She would return to her dormitory later, she figured.

She was just about to turn into the corridor leading to the staircases when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Instinctively, she pulled out her wand and turned.

"Merope…"

She gazed into the kind blue eyes of Alphard Black. She blushed in embarrassment, and quickly lowered her wand.

"Alphard, I'm so sorry," she started to said.

"Merope, where have you been? You missed dinner, and we're so worry. Did Riddle hurt you again? You looked as though you've been crying," Alphard said, giving her a concerned look.

"No, of course he didn't," Hermione said quickly. "I'm sorry. Professor Dumbledore asked me to see him in his office just now, to discuss something with me."

"I see," Alphard said, letting out a breath of relief. "Minerva and Charles were looking for you everywhere. I just joined in their search after I settled some matters with Lucy."

"Sorry for making all of you worry," Hermione said apologetically. "I'll make sure to inform all of you first next time."

"Yeah, be sure of it, Head Girl. Or we'll tear the whole castle down while searching for you," Alphard joked.

Hermione giggled and slapped him playfully on the shoulders.

"Okay, don't worry," she said. "I'll remember that next time."

They smiled at each other and started to walk down the corridor.

"So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," Alphard said, after a few more idle exchanges.

"Sure. I'll meet you guys for breakfast on tomorrow," Hermione promised.

"Okay," Alphard said. "Let me walk you back to your dormitory."

"Oh, there's no need, Alphard. I'm not going back just yet. I need to patrol the corridors tonight," Hermione said quickly. She still had no desire to return to her dormitory yet.

"Oh, I see. Then I'll see you tomorrow," he said, giving Hermione's shoulder a light squeeze.

"Good night, Alphard," Hermione said, smiling at him.

"Good night to you too, Head Girl," Alphard said, before turning away and walking in the opposite direction.

Hermione watched his retreating figure for a while until it disappeared around another corner of the corridor. Then, she turned quickly and started to walk up the staircases leading to the seventh floor.

The corridors were very quiet by now. Hermione found comfort in the silence, and enjoyed every moment of it as she walked down the corridors, glancing once a while at the portraits hung on the walls and the suits of armour that had helped to fight the battle during at her time. She smiled at some of the portraits which she could recognized from her time as she passed, and some of them returned her smile, while others just nodded curtly at her.

Quietly, she turned into a deserted corridor on the seventh floor, and approaches the painting which was opposite a stretch of blank wall. She looked around her once again to make sure that no one was around.

When she was sure that it was safe, she closed her eyes, and started to pace back and forth from the stretch of blank wall.

"I need a safe and quiet place to clear my thoughts.

I need a safe and quiet place to clear my thoughts.

I need a safe and quiet place to clear my thoughts."

She repeated this for a few more time, while she paced in front of the wall. Then, she opened her eyes, and found a door had appeared before her.

"At last," she sighed in relief. "This is just what I needed for now. Room of Requirement, here I come!"

She reached for the doorknob, and turned it. Quietly, she pushed open the door and stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

She pressed her ears against the closed Dorr, trying to hear whether there were any noises outside. After all, she still need to be sure that she was not being followed or seen by anyone. Relieve washed over her once more when she heard nothing at all. She turned around and observed the room.

However, Hermione was not prepared for the sight which greeted her as her eyes scanned the room. Apparently, someone had the same idea as her to spend a few quiet hours here.

The room looked cozy, with soft carpeting on the floor, and beautiful decorations on the walls. A few cheerful paintings hung on all the four walls in the room. There was a crackling fire in one corner, and a few comfortable looking armchairs were arranged near the fireplace. There was also a long couch, just like the couch in her dormitory. A large bed was placed near the window, which was wide open, sending in fresh fragrance of night flowers from outside the castle.

And there, lying on the bed, with his eyes half closed, was none other than Tom Marvolo Riddle. He had fixed his nose back, and the blood from his face and clothes were all gone.

For a moment, Hermione stood rooted to the spot. Her breath caught in her throat, and she cupped her mouth with her hands to prevent a scream escaping from it. This was the last thing she had ever expected, and she was definitely not prepared for it.

Hermione tried to calm herself, but her heart was racing so fast that she thought she would faint soon. She should have returned to her dormitory after all. Now, she was stuck in a place which was only known to herself and Riddle; the Room of Requirement. He could kill her easily in here, and just leave the place. No one will be able to find her.

"How could I be so stupid? I should have thought better about it before coming here," Hermione muttered under her breath. Her hands were now cold and damp with sweat. She tried hard to control her panic.

"I must get out of here now before he noticed me," Hermione decided finally. She started to turn away, but she was not quick enough.

Riddle blinked, and his eyelids fluttered open. With horror, Hermione stared into a pair of midnight blue eyes, which were now widened in surprised as they focused on her figure.

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** There you go! This is the next half of the previous chapter, as promised. Hope all of you enjoyed it! What a long chapter! Feeling great now as I managed to type it out at last!

** Please read and review! Next chapter will be up soon!

^^ Hermione Hean Fui ^^


	13. Chapter 13 THE VOICE IN THE CRYSTAL

A/N: Hello there! It's another great weekend. Look what have we here? A new chapter!

Sorry to keep you guys waiting for so long. I just couldn't write anything last week, as I'm having a terrible headache for the last few days, due to the hot and hazy weather here. Now, I'm back and feeling better to get going again. So, here you go another great chapter from me.

Special thanks for those who reviewed for the last chapter. Your reviews just keep me inspired to write more! Do continue to review for the coming chapters. It will be very much appreciated.

Having said that, let's move on with the story, shall we? Enjoy!

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Chapter 12: The Voice in the Crystal

For a moment, both occupants in the room just stared at each other without saying a word. Soft hazel brown eyes bored into midnight blue ones without blinking. The horrified expression on Hermione's face still remained there. Riddle still looked surprised and was unable to hide the expression from his face this time.

Hermione swallowed hard. She tried to calm her nerves as best as possible. Her heart was still racing madly, and shivers were starting to run down her spine. She tried to summon her Gryfindor courage back, but her attempts were fruitless. She was still shocked and shaken after discovering that the psycho was also here. She was definitely going to be dead sooner than she could have imagined it. That psycho would definitely use this opportunity to dispose her here. After all, this was a perfect place. No one would be able to find her, and he would be able to create a believable story to present to the whole school regarding her disappearance with his talents. She grimaced at the thought of this.

"Come on, Hermione. Get a grip on yourself! Where have all your courage gone to?" she mocked herself.

In the meantime, Riddle had recovered from his surprise of discovering her in the same room as him. His face was now schooled back into the emotionless mask which he always wore. Hermione could even detect a glint of red in those midnight blue eyes which seemed so harmless just now. She quickly looked away, just in case that psycho planned to use legilimency on her. She was not letting him into her mind so easily.

With a few long strides, he crossed the room and positioned himself a few feet away from her.

"Expeliarmus!"

Hermione was not prepared for this, as she was so engrossed in her own thoughts of how to block the psycho from her mind. When realization dawned on her, it was already too late. Before Hermione knew it, her wand had flown out of her pocket. With his quick reflexes, Riddle caught it in his left hand, and smirked satisfactorily.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," Hermione mocked herself. "I should have taken out my wand earlier. Now, I'm definitely dead."

"Ah, now that's better. I would not have to watch out for one of your…splendid curses this time, eh?" Riddle said, twirling both wands in his hands. He let the smirk which he had plastered on earlier remained on his handsome face for a few more minutes, before softly clearing his throat, and offered Hermione a sinister smile.

"Granger," he started in a low and dangerous voice. "What a pleasant surprise to see you here. Care to enlighten me about how you end up in this place?"

Hermione remained silent. For some reason, she was finding it difficult to respond to his question. She continued to stare at Riddle blankly. Her mouth felt dry all of a sudden, and she was finding it difficult to form the words which she wished to throw at that psycho for now.

"Not many people knew about this place, which I would call the Come and Go Room. So, I am curious about how you managed to find it in the first place. Care to share your discovery with me?" Riddle asked, twirling his wand around with a thoughtful expression on his face.

Hermione decided to remain silent. She has no desire to tell the psycho anything at all. She had managed to calm down by now, and was feeling slightly better. Her body had stopped shaking, and her muscles were not stiff anymore. She swallowed, and looked straight ahead of her, averting her gaze from Riddle.

Riddle gave her a quizzical look, and stepped closer to where she was standing now.

"I see that you're still as stubborn as always, Granger. Never mind about that. Maybe a few more teasers may help to loosen your tongue. What do you have to say about it?" Riddle asked, closing the gap between them. Hermione tried to move out of the way, but Riddle was too quick for her. He managed to grab both her arms, and pinned her against the door in a few swift movements.

Hermione was not going to back down, she decided. She would not give that psycho the satisfaction he wanted. She would continue to remain silent, even though she had to endure the Cruciatus curse for another time. She was prepared for it, she decided. She cast her gaze downwards, and started to put up her occlumency barriers just in case Riddle decided to read her thoughts during the torture session. She was lucky to have mustered this skill a long time ago, after the final battle was over. Harry had thought Ron and Hermione about it, and Hermione had researched about how to improve this skill in the library. She was now a very skillful occlumens indeed and she was proud about it. In fact, she had also managed to discover another hidden potential of legilimency and occlumency, where false images can be created by the mind to trick those who enter her thoughts. This was exactly what Lord Voldemort had done to trick Harry to go to the Department of Mysteries during fifth year. Hermione was very happy to have mustered this skill as well. She had tried to teach it to Harry and Ron, but both of them were finding it difficult to learn this new skill and had given up on it.

At the thought of this, Hermione suddenly had a brilliant idea. She would use this talent to her advantage now, she decided. She would let the psycho into her mind, and she would open up her mind as much as he wished her to do so. She chuckled inwardly at this thought. Concentrating as hard as she could, she cleverly constructed a series of false thoughts and summoned them to the surface of her mind. If Riddle was going to read her thoughts now, she would be prepared and would easily fool him.

Her efforts paid off well after all. With another movement which was not too gentle, Riddle tilted her chin upwards and held her head firmly in place with another hand. With a blank expression plastered on her face, Hermione looked straight into his midnight blue eyes. She did not try to push him away or fight him this time.

"Legilimens!" he muttered, waving his wand.

Hermione just smiled at him. She was already prepared for this. The false thoughts which she had constructed earlier flashed before her own eyes, and she watched them play out with glee.

[Beginning of Hermione's false thoughts]

She was shopping for a new dress with her mother in a shopping mall in France. Both of them were smiling happily. She looked beautiful in her new green and yellow dress with sunflowers and buttercups embroided on the sleeves of her dress. Her mother smiled warmly at her, and kissed her lovingly.

She was practicing a few spells with her friends in a large house. The three of them all have broad grins on their faces, as they levitated objects about in the living room of the house.

She was fighting a few nasty looking men. Curses were flying in every direction, and she was able to dodge them as she continued to fight bravely.

Her parents drop dead onto the ground. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She began to run away as fast as she could.

She was walking down the seventh floor corridor. "I need a safe and quiet place to clear my thoughts," she muttered to herself. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, a door had materialized. A surprised and puzzled expression crossed her face. She reached out and turned the doorknob.

[End of Hermione's false thoughts]

And, Riddle was finally out of her mind. He smirked satisfactorily, and released his grip on her. Relief washed over her. He had believed what he had seen, it seems, and Hermione was glad about it. "Ah, you have underestimated me, you blood fool of a dark lord!" she thought, smiling up at Riddle. Riddle just gave her a puzzled look, before looking away.

"Now, that was not too difficult, isn't it? You could have just told me about it, and I would not take the trouble of reading your thoughts," Riddle said.

Hermione just remained silent. She was not going to say anything at all. It was not worth it, she gathered. The psycho can have it all out on her, and he would be gone by then. She would just have to endure some more torturing for now.

"Now, since you've discover this room, I'll ask you not to tell anyone about this. It would be wise to keep it a secret. Let's call it our little secret, shall we? I gathered that you and I were the only ones who had discovered this room," Riddle said, offering her a half smile which is no doubt forced onto his face.

Hermione just nodded without saying a word.

"With this settled," Riddle said, "I believed that we need to get the scores even, don't you think so?"

Hermione still remained silent. An irritated growl escaped Riddle's throat. His face contorted into rage, and the mad glint in his eyes was back again.

"Since you've so nicely hurt me in the dormitory a few hours ago, I would be honoured to return the favour now," Riddle said. "Bear with me, girl. I assure you that this is much more painful than the first time."

He laughed. The high-pitched and cold laughter echoed around the room, and Hermione shivered slightly.

"Ready?" Riddle said, straightening up and walking a few paces back.

Hermione let herself slid down onto the floor and relaxed. She closed her eyes, preparing herself to face what was going to come.

"Crucio!"

The pain was worse than before. The familiar sensation of a thousand knives piercing through her body was back again, but the pain was more excruciating this time. Her organs felt like they were on fire, and she felt as though they were going to tear apart soon. She started to scream; the worse scream she had ever let out. Her mind was beginning to turn foggy. She wondered whether she would be insane soon. Perhaps this was how Frank and Alice Longbottom felt like when they were being tortured. A tinge of pity for Neville's parents overtook her. Both of them had to spend the rest of their lives in St. Mungos, as they had lost their memory completely, and could not remember anything at all.

A wave of anger overtook her at the thought of this. All the sufferings were caused by that psycho. He would have to pay for it, no matter the consequences. She would kill him straightaway. She would just have to convince Dumbledore about it. She would not waste her time of making him experience love. After what happened tonight, she believed that it would be impossible to do so.

The pain was unbearable now. Her body twitched on its own accord, and she started to thrash about on the soft carpeted floor. She bit down hard on her lips, and tasted blood. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She clenched her fists, and sucked in a breath of air. Her ribs were throbbing painfully, and she screamed again.

"Incendium inflicto!" she could hear Riddle mutter.

Her whole body felt as though it was on fire. The burning sensation traveled down her whole body, and she screamed again. The burning sensation increased, and she was beginning to feel hot. Her dress had begun to stick to her body, and perspiration was beginning to form on her forehead.

She gasped for breath before continuing her screams. Her muscles were beginning to get numb by now, and her chest felt as though it was on fire.

"Stranglium inflicto!"

Riddle was merciless as she heard him mutter the third spell. This time, she could not even breathe. She felt as though she was being strangled. It felt as though as someone had squeezed her windpipes tightly. She tried to open her mouth to gulp in some air, but the strangling sensation was making it difficult for her to do so. She was beginning to suffocate. Her lungs compressed painfully inside her, and she let out a muffled and suffocating scream.

"How is it so far, Granger?" Riddle asked.

"P…p…please! S…stops!" she managed to choke out.

"What was that?" Riddle asked, stepping closer to where she was lying. "I'm afraid I didn't quite get it. Care to repeat it again?"

"Please…stop…this..." Hermione trailed off weakly. She was beginning to feel dizzy now. Her vision was beginning to blur.

"Why, is this too strong for you to handle? I thought you're great at fighting. Tsk, tsk, what a waste of talents. Perhaps you should think better of it next time before deciding to hurt someone like me."

Riddle laughed like a crazy maniac, before lazily flicking his wand. The strangling and the burning sensation in her body stop. She quickly gulped in a few breaths of air.

After a few more moments, Riddle finally lifted off the cruciatus curse. Hermione rolled over in pain, and started to sob violently.

"Stop crying this instant, girl!" Riddle said. "I hate to hear people cry!"

Hermione did not care. She continued to sob harder.

"I say stop it now!" Riddle thundered from above her.

Hermione continued to sob, pretending not to hear him. She felt terrible. The pain was killing her. She curled up into a ball, and hugged herself tightly.

"Silencio!" Riddle snapped, and Hermione's sobs were muffled. Silent tears continued to trickle down her eyes.

"What did I tell you, girl? Stop crying!"

With a jerk, he ceased a handful of her hair and roughly pulled it hard. Hermione gritted her teeth in pain. He kicked her ribs hard after letting go of her hair a few seconds later.

"Don't ever cry in front of me! I'll not tolerate such weakness!" he shouted, kicking her hard again. Hermione clutched her sides, and rolled away as far as she could manage. Riddle looked amused, and chuckled at this.

With a few quick strides, Riddle walked to where Hermione was lying now, and crouched down beside her. He cupped her cheeks with both of his hands, and tilted her head sideways. His palm felt cold against her burning cheeks.

"This will teach you once and for all not to disobey me, and not to argue with me, girl. You will be wrapped around my little finger just like the others now, and do whatever I told you to do. Am I clear now?"

Hermione nodded weakly. She just wanted to get this over for now. She could not bear it anymore.

"Don't you dare insult or threaten me again, girl! You must learn your place here if you are living under the same roof as me! Do you get me?"

Hermione nodded.

"Good. Make sure you keep your word, girl," Riddle said, getting to his feet. "If you displease me again, the consequences will be worse than this, I assure you. Do you hear me?"

Hermione nodded again. She had no desire to fight the psycho any longer. She was so tired. Her body was drained out of energy, and she did not think that she had the strength to fight that psycho any longer. She would just let him have his way for now.

With another flick of his wand, Riddle lifted the silencing spell off her. Hermione moaned softly, and started to massage her temples. She hoped that Riddle would get this over quickly.

"Get up!"

Riddle's voice was getting more and more distant. Her mind was getting more and more foggy, and she was slowly drifting in and out of consciousness.

"I say get up!" Riddle snapped. She could hear him making his way towards her again. Fearing for another of his violent and painful kicks, she quickly rolled away to the other side of the room.

With all the strength left in her, Hermione tried to push herself into a sitting position once she reached the other side of the room. Dizziness overtook her, and she let out a moan as she collapsed once more onto the floor.

"Get up this instant, you insufferable girl!" Riddle bellowed from above her.

Hermione jumped in surprise. How can he manage to get to her so fast, she wondered.

Hermione was beginning to drift in and out of consciousness again now. Her eyelids were getting heavier as the seconds passed. She felt very tired all of a sudden.

Riddle was now crouching down beside her. Pain shot through her ribs as he violently jabbed his wand into her sides.

"What did I tell you to do just now, girl?" he shouted. "I told you to get up!"

"I…can't…" she trailed off, before closing her eyes.

Her muscles were too numb to move anymore. Her body was aching all over, and she went limp on the floor. The last thing she saw was Riddle crouching down beside her again. Was he going to curse her again, she wondered tiredly. She had no energy left in her to resist it, she told herself. She closed her eyes, waiting what is to come next.

For the second time in that week, Hermione passed out cold on the floor.

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Tom cursed under his breath. His day was getting worse than he had expected.

He had wake up feeling colder than before. The autumn wind which touched his skin made him shiver violently. He casted a warming charm on himself, but as usual, it did not help much.

Angrily, he threw the covers onto the bed roughly, and got up. He headed straight into the bathroom. He turned on the heater to the maximum and took a warm soak in the tub.

The pain in his muscles had ceased slightly, and he was feeling much better. He planned to go down to the hospital wing and asked the matron about it again later, if he can find the time. Today, his schedule was packed. He had a few morning classes to attend, and then he has Divination after lunch before he was free.

He figured that he must solve his problem quickly. He could not afford to let tit bother him for the rest of the school year. His plans will be far behind and thwarted if he continued to suffer seizures like this. Sighing, he dipped himself lower into the warm water, finding comfort as the warm water soaked his whole body. He let the warmness seeped through his skin for a few more minutes, before sighing satisfactorily, and emerged from the tub.

He dressed quickly, and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast. As he left the room, his gaze settled on the empty bed opposite from his own. The covers were tucked in neatly, and the quilt was neatly folded. Me rope Granger had not been out of the hospital wing yet, it seems. Perhaps she would be out today, he noted.

A sudden pang of guilt overtook him when he thought about the girl. He could not deny that he was partly to be blamed for all her terrible sufferings so far. He had cursed her before, and had made her experienced her past once again. He felt sorry for her of having to suffer all this.

"Stop it! What are you so concerned about? She is just an ordinary girl!" he mocked himself, and the pang of guilt quickly disappeared. He felt very angry again. What must the girl haunt his thoughts so early in the morning? His day was definitely having a nasty beginning.

With one last look at the bed, he stomped down the staircase, and headed out of the dormitory. He scowled angrily as he walked down the quiet corridors. As always, it was still early in the morning, and not many students were about yet. Tom let the wonderful and calming silence enveloped him for a few more minutes before turning into the corridor leading to the Great Hall.

His scowl quickly turned into a forced smile when he stepped through the double doors of the Great Hall. However, little did he know that his day was just beginning to get worse?

Tom's irritation increased at breakfast time.

Barajas Malfoy, Lestrange and the others had already arrived by the time Tom plopped down in his usual seat. Malfoy quickly grabbed Tom's plate and goblet from the table, and started to pile food and pour juice for Tom. Tom scowled at this. He hated it when others served him; he preferred getting his own food. He did not need some arrogant pureblood blond like Malfoy serving him as though he was unable to get his own food. This was a form of weakness in his opinion.

His insides cringed in disgust as Malfoy laid down the plate and goblet in front of him. Nevertheless, he quickly plastered another forced smile onto his face, picked up his fork and knife, and started to eat after thanking Malfoy courteously.

Tom's was beginning to lose his temper again halfway through breakfast. It seems that Millie Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls had planned to slip the love potion which they had brewed a few days ago into his drink at breakfast. He had noticed it when Parkinson pretended to strike up a conversation with Barajas Malfoy whilst inching closer to where he was sitting.

At first, he did not give his full attention to what she was up to. After all, she was one of those girls who were used to flirt around with any pureblood bloke who she thought worthy of befriending. When Parkinson was just a few inches away from him, Tom noticed she had an excited glint in her eyes. He had a feeling that she was up to something bad. He had caught her glancing sideways at her friends for several times already. For some reason, all of them would giggle stupidly or blushed when Parkinson mentioned something to them while pointing at Tom once in a while.

Immediately, without her noticing, he performed legilimency on her, and quickly found out what she was up to. The nerve of that girl! Anger was welling inside him. How dare she plan to spike his drink with a love potion? If it was something else [even though it was poison], he would not mind much about it. The idea of slipping a love potion into his drink was simply disgusting and uncalled for.

He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth in an attempt to control his magic from lashing out at that idiotic girl. His own mother had used the same method to gain his filthy Muggle father's love. His insides cringed in disgust at the thought of this. He would certainly not be so ignorant and stupid like his own father; he would not allow someone to cheat him into loving them so easily. He was certainly not letting history repeat itself again.

Tom glowered at Parkinson. Taken by surprise, Parkinson raised an eyebrow, but did not even wince.

"What's wrong, Tom?" she asked in her flirty voice. She plastered an innocent look on her face and looked at Tom with puppy-dog eyes.

"Parkinson, you know better than to pull this on me!" Tom hissed angrily, pounding the Slytherin table with his goblet. Immediately, all the other students turned and looked at him. Malfoy and his gang looked surprised, while Parkinson's gang of giggling girls looked scared.

"What…what do you mean, Tom?" Parkinson asked, starting to look worry.

"You know perfectly well what I mean, Parkinson. You're lucky this time, as I'm not going to report this to anyone. If I caught you spiking my drink again, you'll going to suffer the consequences of it. Am I clear on this?"

Parkinson shrank back in her seat. Timidly, she nodded.

"Accio, amortentia!" Tom muttered, waving his wand. Immediately, a small flask flew out of Parkinson's pocket and Tom quickly caught it in his hands. Malfoy and his gang were now gaping at Parkinson in horror. They certainly knew what will happen next, Tom decided.

Parkinson quickly looked away. Tom quickly glanced around the Great Hall. Luckily, the other students were not paying any attention to the happenings at the Slytherin table just now. Most of them were still busy forking bacon and eggs into their mouths or enjoying their cereal to notice what was going on. He sighed in relief before turning towards Malfoy and his gang.

"Lestrange," he said, clearing his throat to interrupt their chatter.

Lestrange immediately straightened up and looked at Tom.

"Yes, my…I Mean, Tom?" he quickly covered his slip up.

"You know what to do. I want her tortured and warned for what she did today. I'll be doing the torturing and warning. Just help me to corner her. We'll meet at our usual meeting place at ten tonight, after I finished patrolling the corridors. Understand?" Tom whispered.

"Yes, my Lord," Lestrange said, giving Parkinson a sympathetic look. The girl was now chatting away with her gang of friends again. She pretended as though nothing had happened for the last few minutes.

"Malfoy…" Tom called out slowly.

"Yes, Tom?" Malfoy said, leaning in closer to Tom.

"Tell the others that our first meeting will take place on tomorrow night at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Make sure all of them have their hoods and cloaks on. I don't want any form of slip up. Do you get me?"

"Yes, my Lord," Malfoy said, before pulling away from Tom.

"Avery, Crabbe, Mulcibur, Knot and Zabini," Tom said next, leaning in closer to the group. "All of you will help Lestrange out on his assignment. I want all of the others to gather and watch the torturing session as well. Let this be a lesson for all of you."

"Yes, we understand, my Lord," all of his followers whispered in unison.

"Good. Make sure there are no flaws in our plans," Tom said, before turning away.

Millie Parkinson was now eyeing his goblet with a hopeful look in her eyes again. Tom was boiling with anger now. He could not tolerate this nonsense any longer. His patience would snap soon. "Oh no, you don't!" he growled under his breath.

Before she could do anything more, he snatched up his goblet, downed all of its contents in a few gulps and stood up. He excused himself from the table, and headed straight out of the Great Hall. He noted with pleasure the disappointed look on Parkinson's face as she slid away further down the table to rejoin her group of friends once again.

With one last disgusted look at the girl, he stepped out of the Great Hall. The girl would get her punishment soon, he decided. He would teach her once and for all not to mess with him tonight.

At least Merope Granger was better, he noted. She was intelligent, and never bothered to flirt around with guys, from what he had observed so far. At least that was one girl that he was able to tolerate and live with, he decided. After all, she was in some ways similar to him; they shared the same interest in obtaining knowledge, they were serious about schoolwork and both of them were looked highly upon by the professors.

He caught himself smiling at these thoughts and as Granger's image entered his mind. "What the hell are you thinking about?" he scolded himself as he walked down the corridor with a dark mood, after realizing that he had once again strayed away from his persona. "Stop thinking about this nonsense already, will you?"

He stormed down the corridor, and headed for his first class. He was just turning into the corridor leading to the History of Magic classroom when it happened again.

He felt a stabbing pain in his sides, and immediately doubled over. The burning sensation returned again, and his whole body was on fire. His breathing had become laboured by now, and he closed his eyes, trying to control the pain. His fingers begin to twitch on their own accord, and his muscles become numb all of a sudden. He gritted his teeth, and tried hard to suck in a breath of air.

His head was pounding hard now, and he reasoned that he would have to take a few quick gulps of air before the tightness in his chest started, just as before.

His seizure this time was worse than before. Buzzing sounds filled his ears, and he was slowly slipping in and out of consciousness. His eyes threatened to close at any moment now. Was he going to die now, he wondered.

"No!" he screamed inwardly. He could not die just yet; not before achieving what he desired. Lord Voldemort will not die like this. He would find out about his sickness [if it was indeed a form of sickness [and try to cure it. He will not leave this world before he became a powerful dark lord, as he had wished for. He would not let this seizure affect him. After all, he was a person who feared death the most. He would not dare to face death now. Hadn't he made himself immortal by splitting his soul? He would definitely make it through this time. He would not die, he decided with confidence.

This was his only weakness which he tried to hide from everyone else. Yes, Tom Marvolo Riddle was definitely afraid of dying.

The pain suddenly ceased. He tried to push himself up into a sitting potion. Nausea washed over him, and he quickly sank down onto the cold stone floor again. He closed his eyes, and let his breathing slowly return to normal. A terrible headache was beginning now. He grunted and massaged his temples slowly.

By now, he can hear footsteps and the noisy chatter of other students as they left the Great Hall after breakfast. Not wanting anyone to find him in his current condition, he quickly pulled himself up into a sitting position, and started to get up. With all the strength left in him, he pulled himself to his feet, and started to walk slowly down the corridor.

Once he was in the History of Magic classroom, he quickly sank down on his seat, and closed his eyes. He felt lethargic again. The seizure just now had drained half of the energy from his body.

As Tom drifted in and out of a light sleep throughout the lessons of the day, he could still hear most of the students chatting excitedly among themselves. No one seems to have notice the change in him yet, and he was so glad about it. All the questions asked were answered by Merope Granger. Tom decided to let her take the glory for just this one day more, as he did not have the urge to compete with her on this day. What he needed most was some light sleep to regain his energy.

However, during Charms, Professor Beerie had noticed something off with him, and had asked him with concern whether he was feeling alight. He quickly faked a smile and told the professor that he was tired and had a headache. As always, the professor believed him and told him to rest well.

The day passed by in a blur. Tom decided to skip lunch. He returned to his dormitory for another quick nap before heading for his last class for the day, which was Divination.

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Tom stretched for one last time on his comfortable bed, before getting up. He had had a longer nap than he had anticipated. He figured that he will be late for Divination if he was not out of his dormitory in fifteen minutes.

He dressed quickly and walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

He hurried down the corridors and headed for the North Tower. The afternoon was beginning to get chilly again. Tom rubbed both hands together to give himself some warmth before continuing down the corridors. He felt slightly better after his nap. He had regained half of his energy back by now.

When he reached the North Tower, Professor Casey was already there. She wore her hair in a ponytail today, and her silver bangles and earrings clanged noisily as she walked into the classroom. Most of the students were already there. Soft plush cushions were piling on comfortable looking chairs. The room was quite stuffy as the windows were not opened, and the dimness of the room made it looked as though one was walking in a dreamy and misty world.

Tom quickly walked to the front of the class, and plopped down on his usual seat. By now, Professor Casey had walked to the front of the classroom, and held up her hands. Her bangles jingled slightly as she waved her hand to get the students' attention.

"Good afternoon class," she began in her usual dreamy and floating voice. Some of the students had already started to yawn.

"Welcome to your second lesson for the week. As promised in the last lesson, we'll be doing something exciting today."

The students murmured quietly among themselves. Tom tried to stifle a yawn. If Professor Casey did not begin the lesson sooner, he was afraid that he too would nod off just like the others. Nevertheless, for the sake of maintaining his good student façade, he quickly straightened up, and pretended to look interested. He tapped his fingers absent-mindedly on his desk, while he let his gaze travel around the room.

The room was small, stuffy and hot as usual. As the small window at the far corner of the room was not opened and the curtains were drawn together, the room looked dim and dreamy; which was exactly the atmosphere that the professor wished to create in her class.

As Professor Casey cleared her throat, Tom turned his attention back to her and tuned into the lesson.

"Today, we'll be doing crystal gazing," Professor Casey said, holding up a large crystal ball in front of her. "Now, I want all of you tub give your fullest attention to me when I explain how you can do this correctly. This is a very important part of the study of Divination and will be included in your NEWTs. I assure all of you that you will not be disappointed at the end of the day, as what we learn in this lesson may be helpful for all of you when predicting the future or for other uses later."

Tom sighed. He had already mustered crystal gazing last summer before he went back to the orphanage. He will just have to show Professor Casey how to do it properly this time, as he had no problem in doing it.

The classroom began to buzz with excitement. Students were starting to look interested. Malfoy and Lestrange, who was sitting two seats away from Tom, were chatting away happily, while exchanging exciting glances with each other. Charles potter leaned back in his seat, tapping his fingers on his table. Tom noticed that Potter looked excited too.

Professor Casey started to explain the process of crystal gazing to the whole class for the first half of the period.

"Now, you need to concentrate hard on what you are doing. Clear your head from any thoughts and relax. Close your eyes, try to calm your nerves and take a deep breath. Then, when you feel that you are ready, opens your eyes, and look into the crystal. Focus hard and be patient. An image or some of you will call it a vision, will appear eventually. In order to get a clearer version of what you are seeing, you need to concentrate harder. Do not get easily distracted, or you'll lose focus and you'll be unsuccessful in maintaining the image you've just viewed."

The old and ancient-looking professor rambled on for a few more minutes about the importance of crystal gazing and how it could be apply when divinationists made predictions around the world. After that, Professor Casey walked around the classroom, distributing crystal balls around the class.

"Now, you may begin. You can either work alone or work with a partner. Don't feel disappointed if you are not successful at the end of the lesson. This is a skill which required a lot of concentration and patience."

The professor started to walk about, observing students. Most of the students preferred to work alone.

Halfway through the lesson, Tom had demonstrated to Professor Casey his crystal gazing ability. The professor was very happy, and awarded him thirty points. Most of the other students was still not successful. Tom noticed that some of them still had their noses closely pressed to their crystal balls. They stared straight into the ball without blinking.

Tom shook his head in disgust. All the others were a bunch of stupid kids, he noted. What was so difficult, he wondered. You just need to focus and be patient. Tom noticed that some of the students had managed to obtain a blur image. Charles Potter and Malfoy were among them. Lestrange was still struggling, it seems.

Tom leaned back in his chair, and continued to observe the other students. All of them were busy muttering under their breath while gazing intently at their crystal balls. Professor Casey was walking around the classroom now, guiding students along the way. Tom heard some of them swearing under their breath when the image which that had managed to get a glimpse of disappeared.

Tom smirked. The image which he was able to see in his crystal ball was always the same: a large slithering snake. He had the pleasure of watching it moving about in the crystal ball. This was indeed the representation that he was the true heir of Slytherin, Tom decided.

Tom smirked again. Soon, he will become more than the heir of Slytherin. He will dominate the world, and gather more followers. Everybody will be under his rule for as long as he lived. With this thought in mind, Tom glanced sideways at Lestrange and Malfoy, who were the only two of his followers which took Divination. Both were still gazing intently into their crystal ball.

At last, Malfoy straightened up, and clapped his hands together. He had managed to catch a glimpse of something in his crystal ball, it seems. He announced it proudly to Professor Casey in a loud and pompous voice. Lestrange, it seems, was still struggling. His frown deepened as he leaned in closer until his nose was inches away from his crystal ball.

Five minutes before the class ended, Lestrange walked up to tom, and held out his crystal ball. Tom eyed it distastefully. However, his eyebrows shot up when his eyes fell onto the crystal ball for the second time. This was not any ordinary crystal ball, he immediately noted. It was bigger than most of the other crystals, and was pink in colour. A soft and warm glow emitted from it as Tom gazed into its clear and glittering surface.

"Tom, can you help me with this? I still cannot get it," Lestrange asked in a timid voice. This immediately jolted Tom from his thoughts.

"Damn," Tom cursed silently under his breath. He gave Lestrange an angry look. Lestrange was about to back away when Tom put up a hand and stops him.

"Lestrange," he began, "You know better not to interrupt me when I was thinking. You've indirectly break my chain of thought. And, I will make sure you suffer the consequences later,"

"Tom, I…" Lestrange started.

Tom smirked, and was about to tell Lestrange off when Professor Casey passed his table. Quickly, he plastered on a fake smile, and held out his hands.

"Of course," he said. "Give me your crystal and come sit beside me."

An unsure look crossed Lestrange's face. From the corner of his eyes, Tom saw Lestrange exchanging a knowing look with Malfoy before he quickly turned back to face Tom. Lestrange handed Tom the crystal ball. He was still trembling, Tom noted; no doubt fearing his punishment later.

"Sit down," Tom said in a quiet voice, pulling out the chair next to his and patting it gently.

Lestrange sat down quietly. He placed the crystal ball on the table and placed both hands on his laps. He looked slightly frightened. Perspiration was beginning to form on his forehead.

"So, let's begin," Tom said, fingering the crystal ball thoughtfully. He still admired its beauty. It was wonderfully made, he noted.

A sense of warmth coursed through his fingers and traveled up his arms as he touched the crystal. Tom raised an eyebrow in surprise, and lean closer to have a better look at the crystal.

Gently, he picked up the crystal and placed it on his palms. He turned it upside down, and gazed into it.

"Give me one moment, will you?" Tom asked Lestrange.

Lestrange nodded, and inched closer to where Tom was sitting.

"What is…?"

"Shhh! I'm concentrating!" Tom snapped. He gazed harder into the clear pink crystal. At last, a foggy image was beginning to take shape, and Tom squinted closer at it. He was almost sure that it will be the same image which he always saw; a slithering snake. However, Tom soon finds out that he was wrong this time.

The foggy image begins to take shape a few more seconds later. Tom concentrated harder, trying his best to ignore Lestrange, who was bending closer to try and steal a glimpse at the crystal ball. Finally, he managed to get a clear glimpse of the image in the crystal. What he saw made him gasp in surprise.

The image was of a man; a man with ugly features, in Tom's opinion. He had a twisted face just like a snake, two gleaming red eyes, which was sunken in, and slits for nostrils. His thin lips curved upwards in a smirk, and Tom noticed that the man also have full lips.

However, what interested Tom the most was the body of the man. He looked as though he had been torn apart, and deformed. Tom wondered what had made this man look like this.

"Who is this anyway?" he mumbled curiously. "I've never seen this man before. Perhaps he is one of Grindelwald's followers," Tom wondered. However, he had a feeling that he knew the man. The sight of him was somehow quite familiar.

"Ah, never mind about this now," Tom said. He straightened up, and turned to Lestrange.

"Sorry for the wait," he forced out once again, as Professor Casey was just walking past their row again. Lestrange nodded and smiled weakly.

"Hold out your hands," Tom said in a quiet voice.

"Why?" the fear was still evident in Lestrange's voice. Tom smirked satisfactorily.

"I need to teach you how to hold your crystal ball properly. You need to hold it in order to obtain a better image."

"Oh," Lestrange said, holding out his hands.

Tom picked up the crystal ball from his table and placed it on Lestrange's palm.

Then, he started to take out his wand.

"Tom, what…"

In his panic, Lestrange's grip on the crystal ball loosened, and before Tom knew it, the ball rolled out of Lestrange's palm and onto the floor.

"Accio..." Tom tried, but it was too late.

The ball hit the floor, and there was a loud pop as the ball split opened. Tom raised an eyebrow in surprise. He thought that the crystal ball will shatter into pieces, as he had accidentally broken one before during the last summer. He was not expecting this at all.

As the classroom was too noisy, Professor Casey and the other students did not notice this turn of events at first. Thus, Tom decided to take this opportunity and check out the curious crystal ball. Lestrange had quickly backed away after the ball had fallen onto the floor.

"Coward!" Tom muttered under his breath. "He'll suffer the consequences later."

A silvery mist evaporated into the air, and Tom watched it as it disappeared a few seconds later. By now, some of the students have noticed that something was wrong. They turned their heads, and looked in Tom's direction.

"Riddle…" Tom could hear Charles Potter's voice from across the room.

He scowled and ignored Potter. Cautiously, he crouched down on one knee, and pick up the two halves of the crystal ball. He held it up clots to his nose. The insides of the crystal ball were pink in colour too. He could not remember seeing this crystal ball before. Perhaps Professor Casey had bought new ones during the holidays, he decided.

As Tom gazed intently into the two halves of the broken crystal ball, a loud screeching sound filled the classroom. Tom's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He quickly dropped the two halves of the crystal back onto the floor.

"What the hell was that?" Malfoy said, walking towards Tom.

"No idea. Lestrange broke his crystal ball," Tom muttered under his breath.

"Professor Casey, look at this, will you?" Tom heard Charles Potter's loud voice from across the room again. The nerve of that Potter boy! Why must he be so difficult and insufferable?

Professor Casey had heard the commotion by now and rushed forward.

"Oh dear, look what have we here?" she said, picking up the broken crystal ball as she approached Tom.

Trying his best to maintain his temper, Tom quickly plastered a glum expression on his face and pretended to look apologetic.

"Professor, I'm sorry. I should have told Mr. Lestrange to be more careful. He asked me to help him out just now, and I agreed. This is my entire fault," he said, plastering on an apologetic look again.

"Oh, not to worry, Tom," Professor Casey said, beaming at him. "I just need to mend this. This is a very special crystal ball, you know. A friend of my bought it for me last summer. She said that it was made in Albania."

"Oh?" Tom said, beginning to get interested. "Very fascinating indeed, professor. I was just wondering whether I can help you mend it. I was curious of how this new crystal ball works, you know," he said.

He hoped that Professor Casey will let him help her as he would be able to study the crystal more closely. It was a very curious one indeed.

Professor Casey seems to ponder this for a while. "Oh, certainly. I'll be glad that you'll help me out," Professor Casey said. "In fact, my schedule for today is quite tight. I think you can manage this just fine."

She wrapped the two halves of the crystal ball with a colourful handkerchief which she produced from her dress pocket, and handed it to Tom.

"Just put it under running water for about five minutes. Make sure to hold both halves together. I think you can do this during your bath, Tom," she said.

"Certainly, professor. I'll return the crystal ball to you on tomorrow. Is it okay?"

"It's fine," she said, before smiling at him.

"Mind you, boy. If the crystal cannot be mended, you may keep it as a gift. I daresay I don't quite trust what my friend told me, you know," Professor Casey added quietly.

"I'll try my best to mend it, professor. If I'm unable to do so, then I'll be happy to keep it for you, but I'm really sorry about all this," Tom said in a slow voice.

"Oh, not to worry, Tom. I'm sure I don't mind just a bit. After all. You're my most charming student," Professor Casey said, giving him another of her smiles before walking away.

"Thank you, professor," he said. Excitedly, Tom stuffed the wrapped bundle into his bag and walked out of the classroom. All the other students had already left.

He headed straight for his dormitory. All the other students had already left by now. Tom was glad about this. He quickened his pace, and reached his dormitory a few minutes later.

He looked around the commonroom. Merope Granger was no where in sight.

"Good," Tom noted. "I'll have some time to examine this crystal," he said, heading for the staircase.

He was excited and eager to mend the crystal ball right now, and see what will happen next. He was sure that this was no ordinary crystal.

He entered the bathroom and bolted the door. Then, he started to undressed and stepped into the tub.

After finishing his bath, he opened up the wrapped bundle, and took out the two halves of the crystal ball. The pink crystal glittered beautifully when water reflected upon it.

Taking a deep breath, he held the two halves closely together, and placed it near a running tap. At first, nothing happened. The running water washed over the surfaces of the crystal, making it look more beautiful to look at.

Then, Tom heard a faint voice. The voice grew louder and louder gradually. Bubbles were beginning to form on the surface of the water. Tom bent down closer. The voice was still fain, and he could not make out what it was saying.

He lifted the halves out of the water, and heard the loud screeching sound again.

"What the hell?" he muttered under his breath.

The screeching continued. Irritably, Tom dipped the crystal into the water again. Bubbles began to form again, and soon he heard the faint voice again. He pushed the two halves of the crystal underwater. The voice was growing louder and louder.

"Ah, I wonder…" he trailed off excitedly.

Curiously, he held the crystal halves more tightly, and placed it underwater again. Just as he had predicted, the voice was louder now. As he pressed the ball more deeper into the water, the voice grew louder and louder.

"Ah!" he said triumphantly.

Tom quickly gulped in a few breaths of air and put his head into the water. He pressed the crystal halves tightly against his ears and try to catch some of the words spoken by the voices.

As the crystals made contact with his ears, voices filled his eardrums. He gathered that the voices were sweet and melodic. They were singing a nice tune, and Tom listened intently. He could just make out all the words of the song clearly by now.

COME AND SEEK US WHERE OUR VOICES SOUND

WE CANNOT SING ABOVE THE GROUND OR ABOVE THE SKY

AS WE ARE SCATTERED AND SHATTERED

AN HOUR LONG YOU HAVE TO LOOK

TO RECOVER THE SHATTERED PIECES

THAT YOU'VE SO UNMERCIFFULY BROKE.

COME AND SEEK US WHERE OUR PIECES LIE

WE CANNOT MEND OURSELVES TOGETHER

A FEW MONTHS YOU HAVE TO LOOK

TO MEND US BACK

SO THAT WE WILL BE ONE AGAIN

AND REUNITED TOGETHER HAPPILY AGAIN.

IN YOUR DARKEST MOMENT

WHERE THE CLOSE APPROACHES

ONLY THE ONE WITH THE TASK CAN SAVE YOU

AND DESTINY WILL DO ITS PART

TO MEND THE SHATTERED PIECES TOGETHER AGAIN.

The song just ended there. Tom pulled himself quickly out of the water. What was all this about, he wondered.

He was about to take the crystal halves out of the water when a peculiar thing happened before his own eyes. From the corners of his eyes, he watched unbelievably as the crystal ball halves moved closer to one another and with a loud "plop", it mended itself.

Then, another silvery mist evaporated into the air, and disappeared.

Tom was far more than curious. He picked up the crystal ball, and turned it over. It was then that he noticed something engraved in small silvery letters on the back of the crystal. He turned it over once more and squinted more closely at the tiny letters, which were scripted neatly in block letters on the crystal.

I OPEN AT THE CLOSE

"The close? What close?" Tom muttered.

He furrowed his brow, and thought about what he had just learned. As far as he knew, he had absolutely no idea what the song in the crystal which he had heard just now meant.

"Come and seek what? Something must be broken, which need fixing, by the sound of it," Tom decided.

He gathered that he will figure this out later.

Wrapping the now mended crystal ball back in the colourful handkerchief; Tom wrapped a towel around his body and stepped out of the tub. He made his way out of the bathroom.

He decided that he will return the crystal ball to Professor Casey later. He still needs to study it more closely.

He hid the crystal ball in his trunk, and placed a protective ward around it, He will do some light reading on crystals, he decided. He wondered whether he will be able to gather information about the rare crystal. If he was lucky, he will be able to figure out the mystery behind this mysterious crystal ball before long.

With this thought in mind, Tom headed out of his dormitory and made his way to the library.

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** Sorry for the long wait. I've only managed to type out half of the chapter thus far, and my laptop is having some problems now. So, I'll upload the next half of the chapter soon. Please bear with me. Hope all of you enjoyed reading this chapter.

^^ Hermione Hean Fui ^^


	14. Chapter 14 THE VOICE IN THE CRYSTAL CON

A/N: Hello there! I know it has been a while since I last updated this story. Sorry to keep all of you waiting. I'm currently very busy, preparing to enter college this September. My A-levels results just came out and I've collected my results two days ago, and I'm glad with my achievements, praise the Lord. And, hereby a new chapter is ready to celebrate my great achievements and to please my dear loyal story followers. Lol, I sound a bit like Tom now, didn't I?

As all of you who followed my story noticed, I've changed the title of this story into something more suitable. I had thought about changing it for quite some time now, and the right title kind of popped into my head today. So, now my story is entitled "A Twist of Fate" instead. Let me know how all of you liked it. Thanks.

I'm sorry to inform all of you that updates will be much slower now that I'm starting my degree. However, I'm not planning to abandon this story. I'll try to finish it anyhow, even though it took me longer than expected. I know it is disappointing when all of you read an unfinished story; so don't worry, for I won't be so mean. I really promised that I'll complete this story, okay? So, I hope that all of you will be patient and continue to review and read my story. I still haven't got a beta yet, and I apologise again for any spelling and grammatical errors. Please do bear with me for a few more months. Thank you again.

Once more, thanks to those who reviewed. U guys are just so wonderful. I'm quite happy now that my story seemed to have a lot more followers and favourites than I had expected. :D

And enough rambling now. Let's continue where we had ended last time, shall we? Enjoy!

As promised, I'll upload the second half of the previous chapter first. It's quite short, but I'll try to upload another chapter along with it, as it had already been written out. Let's get started!

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Chapter 13: The Voice in the Crystal [continued]

Tom left the library three hours later, feeling frustrated. As he had expected, there was nothing much that he could find out about the strange crystalball. He had looked in every section that he thought worthy of looking at, but there was not even a single mention of a particular pink crystalball from Albania. He had even tried to look it up in the restricted section, but to his disappointment, there was nothing that he could dig up which was at least related to that curious crystalball. He should perhaps use other means to find out more about it. He was not giving up just yet; after all, he was the great Lord Voldemort, who will not back out of a challenge without trying to work it out first. No, Tom Marvolo Riddle was definitely no longer the weak orphan who was used to be pushed about and bossed around by Mrs. Cole and the other members of the orphanage in which he was living in for the past seventeen miserable and lonely years. He was no longer shunned at or laughed at by other students as he moved up the ladder from student to prefect to Head Boy. His excellence and good looks also helped him to gain a position in which he desired; he was now the favourite pet of all the teachers at Hogwarts, save the old codger Dumbledore, of course, and was looked upon highly by other students. He had also managed to spread his influence over the school via his ring of followers; they helped him to recruit new members once in a while, though sad to say that most of the members of his Death Eaters were mostly from Slytherin. However, Tom will not stop at this, he decided. He will find a way to gather more followers from other houses to join his gang. He was sure that if he played his cards well, half of the school will be under his influence before he graduated. His propaganda will be spreading throughout the school and will help him in earning more trust and support from the other students of the school if he managed to carry out his plan.

All will be well. He did not bother whether the old codger Dumbledore liked it or not; if he managed to gain the trust and loyalty of a few important people such as that old fool of a headmaster and Slughorn, he will be able to achieve his goal, as the old codger had the least to say in that matter. If Dippet listened to him, Tom was sure that he will be able to take over the school in no time, and started to spread his beliefs amongst the wizzarding world. He will be rid of the old codger by then. Albus Dumbledore was certainly not going to stand a chance if Tom had almost more than half of the population of the school and the wizzarding community in Great Britain wrapped tightly and securely around his fingers. And Tom was going to make sure that this was going to happen. He had tolerated quite enough of nonsense from the old codger for quite some time now, and the sooner he disposes of Dumbledore, the better it will be. It will be for the greater good, Tom mused, remembering Grindelwald's favourite slogan. Oh yes, it is for the greater good of Lord Voldemort indeed.

A malicious grin spread all over his face at the thought of this. All of a sudden, Tom's spirits rose. He hummed softly to himself. Through the window which was situated at the far left of the library, Tom could see that the sky was beginning to get dark. The sun was setting now, and its orange glow made Tom felt comfortable. He gazed at it for a few seconds, before exhaling softly and continued on his way. Watching the setting sun was one of his favourite routines. He will sit for hours at the top of the Astronomy towers sometimes to clear his thoughts. No one will be running around up there at that time of the day. He will succumb to the comforting silence of his surroundings and let go all of his stress there. The Astronomy tower could be considered as his second sanctuary after the library. He smiled as the thought entered his head.

He figured that he will go there tonight, after dinner and after the torturing session of Millie Parkinson. He will stay up until midnight, he decided.

With this set in mind, he walked on with a more lighter head, humming to himself again.

"Back to the crystal now…" he muttered to himself as he pushed open the double doors of the library and stepped out into the corridor. He screwed up his face in concentration. He pondered his next move. He was definitely not going to let any form of obstacle weakened him. Thus, with renewed determination, Tom let out a deep sigh, straightened up, patted down his clothes to remove the slight creases on them and continued on his way. He hated to do this every time, but he figured that he needs to maintain his reputation as the Head Boy, in case he bumped into one of the teachers or other students while he was on his way.

"Humph!" he exhaled again after a few more long strides down the deserted corridors. He figured that he will have to solve the mystery of the crystal fast, after all, he had other things to attend to; getting rid of Merope Granger, planning his world domination tactics and a lot more. The list just went on and on in Tom's head. He wished he had more time for all of this.

"First, what to do about the crystal?" he pondered. "I think some more in-depth research will be necessary," Tom muttered at last. "Yes, this is it."

Tom figured that he will have to get Abraxas to borrow a few more books from the Malfoy family's collection. Tom had known long ago that the Malfoys have a library full of rare books, and he will often asked Malfoy to borrow some of them during summer break, after Malfoy willingly followed him. Malfoy, of course did not dare to object his commands. He will just bring Tom whatever he needed. After all, he "never gives a damn about those dusty leather books. They were just too boring for me, Tom", according to Malfoy. Tom stifled a chuckle at this. Of course that pureblood fool had underestimated the value of those books. Those were very ancient and wonderful books which held a lot of valuable information, in Tom's opinion. He will definitely give up anything to own that wonderful collection. However, he figured that this was unnecessary, as he will get to read them when Malfoy brought them for him upon his request. He smirked at the thought of this. Oh, how wonderful it was to be able to command others to submit to his wishes! The Lord Voldemort spirit rose in him, and for the second time that day, Tom grinned maliciously.

Feeling slightly better at the thought of this, Tom turned a corner, , and headed back to his dormitory. The corridors were quiet now, as most of the classes had already ended. Students had already returned to their dormitory to get some rest or complete their homework before dinner. Tom let the quietness settled upon him; he liked it this way.

"Now, I must deal with that insufferable girl next," he muttered under his breath once more. He was going to face his other counter part if she was already backing from the hospital wing. Tom figured that this was the case, since she had appeared in all of the morning classes. She must be taking a rest in the bedroom or doing something else, Tom decided.

"Perfect," he mused as he neared the entrance of his dormitory. The setting sun from outside illuminated the Pink Lady's features and her pearl, making her look more dazzling than before. For a split second, Tom stood there, mesmerized by the Pink Lady's beauty. Her gown glowed around her body, and Tom could not find a word to describe her beauty at that moment. He wished that his future bride to be was as dazzling as the Pink Lady.

He strayed away from his train of thoughts suddenly. He wondered how would it feel like if he had someone to share a bed with, someone to hold him in her arms when he was feeling weary or down and give him the moral support he needed to go about his life if he experienced terrible downfalls in his book of life. That will be just wonderful, Tom thought. However, as fast as this thought entered his mind, it disappeared as soon as he realized where was this heading.

Damn. He was Lord Voldemort after all. He did not need anyone to comfort him or share his thoughts with him. Loneliness was a normal problem to him now, and he liked it very much. He did not even believe in love. It was just total nonsense. Why was he thinking about all of this all of a sudden?

"It must be the effect of having to live with another person from the opposite sex for the past few days," he mused. At this, he immediately concentrated on his thoughts again. Where was he heading when he caught himself off guard just now?

Ah, yes, he finally remembered. He was thinking that the fact that Merope Granger might be in the dormitory was a perfect opportunity. He smirked again as he remembered his previous thoughts.

"Yes," he said finally, in a slow and dangerous voice. "I'll take this opportunity to teach her another lesson, as planned. The sooner this is done, the better. I'll have another thing off my mind."

Tom smirked at this thought. He was going to make sure that the girl will be under his control and manipulation from now onwards. He was not going to let her bother him anymore. The fact that he was always thinking about things which he did not give a damn about all this time, such as love, about friendship, about loneliness, and most importantly, about her was disturbing. No one had ever had such an effect on him. He was going to stop this once and for all, he vowed to himself. He was really not going to be too lenient this time. He did not care whether the girl likes it or not; this was his castle, and she was no one but a stupid transfer. She will not get what she wanted so easily with him, Tom Marvolo Riddle or better known as Lord Voldemort was around, no thank you very much she won't, and Tom will make sure of this.

Sighing, he faced the Pink Lady.

"Good evening, dear. Password?" the Pink Lady said in her usual soft and soothing voice, which Tom liked.

"Good evening, my lady. Caput Draconis," he smiled at the Pink Lady as he gave her the password. As the portrait swung aside, Tom slowly stepped into the commonroom. The fire was still crackling, but there was no sign of the girl in here.

"Perhaps she is upstairs," Tom muttered to himself, making for the grand staircase leading up to the room both of them shared.

When he pushed open the door of the bedroom in which he shared with the Head Girl, he caught sight of her immediately.

"Ah," he chuckled softly. His trademark smirk was plastered on his face once more as he strode across the room while glancing sideways at the girl.

She was sitting on her bed, hastily stuffing a small book into her bag. Tom raised an eyebrow at this. What was she trying to hide from him? He will find out later, he decided.

Remembering something, Tom quickly walked to his side of the room, dumped his schoolbag onto the floor, and rummaged in his pocket for a particular roll of parchment.

Having found what he was looking for, he straightened up, and contemplated his next move. He hates to do this, but he could not think of another way out of this. He must give the Head Girl the now ready patrolling schedule, or else he will be in hot soup if Dippet questioned him about it later.

"Oh, why must this be so damn difficult?" Tom muttered. He was not prepared to confront the girl again; not after what happened two days ago. He was afraid that the girl will have another terrible fit or something like that. He was not willing to risk it for another time.

"Just give it to her," another part of him mocked. "Come on, you can do this. After all, you were so confident and determined to teach her a lesson just now."

Finally, he made his decision. He was just trying to clear his throat when he saw that the girl was leaving.

Hastily, he put up a hand, and beckoned the girl forward.

For a few second, their gazes locked. He stared into her soft and warm hazel brown eyes. Fearing that he will be mesmerized by those warm eyes again, he quickly averted his gaze and maintained a blank expression on his face.

For a moment, the girl just stared straight at him, shifting her weight from one foot to another, as though she was contemplating her next move. Then, as though she had finally come to a decision, the girl straightened up, and gave him a quizzical look. Tom held out the piece of parchment towards the girl, smirking. He could notice a hint of fear in the girl as she looked at the roll of parchment in his still outstretched hands.

She took another look at it, shook her head and quickly started to back away. What the hell was she thinking of, Tom mused. Did she expect that he was going to curse her again? Oh, he would love to, Tom gathered, but now was not the time to do so, after what happened. He would not want to face the consequences later. His Head Boy reputation was not going to be smeared for another time again. He will not risk the chance. If the girl was so weak, he will play it slowly with her; using her weakness to threaten her. He will get what he wanted easily by doing this, he gathered.

He smirked, took a few more paces towards the girl, and extended the parchment to her for the second time. He was waiting to see whether the girl will act stupidly again this time. She continued to back away. The nerve of this girl! What was she playing at now, Tom wondered.

His patience finally snapped. Why must this female be so difficult? He walked forward and thrust the parchment roughly into Granger's hands. Hastily, she backed away and threw the parchment onto the floor.

For a moment, Tom stood there, transfixed. What was the girl thinking? Had a few rounds of the Cruciatus curse made her brains all mushy?

He started to mock the girl.

"Granger," he begins in his smooth and silky voice. "Whatever is the matter with you?"

The girl did not respond and glared at him instead. How dare she act like this? Tom was already boiling with anger now. His magic was crackling dangerously around him now, and it will lash out anytime now. He tried as best as he could to control it.

"Just pick up the parchment and read it. I don't give out bomb letters, you know?" he tried to add a sense of humour in his statement. As an afterthought, he walked a few more paces closer to where she was standing. The girl instantly backed away further into the far corner of the room.

This is it. Tom had had enough.

"Just pick up the parchment, you stupid and insufferable girl!" he snapped. "Enough of this nonsense now! Stop this instant before I lose my temper!" he shouted as the girl gave him another of her trademark glares. The girl continued to piss him off as she ignored him completely and continued to back away.

Tom gave a defeated sigh, and looked at the girl. In a bored voice, he told the girl what the parchment contained. He waited to see how she will react after realizing her own stupidity.

It took a while for his words to be absorbed into the girl. Her face fell, and a slightly flustered look crossed her face. There! Tom scoffed inwardly. She finally realized her own mistake. Tom smirked, and waited for her next move.

"I'm only giving you your patrolling schedule, girl. What did you thing that I'm going to do? Curse you? Tsk, tsk, such brains of yours are quite mushy sometimes, you know."

He added this as an afterthought.

The girl just looked at him. Finally, a defeated look crossed her face. Tom watched her change of expression with glee.

"Oh." She finally managed to choke out.

"Oh, indeed!" Tom scoffed inwardly. He wished that he could hammer some sense into her mushy brains right now. He was angry at her for wasting his precious time. He could have got this over with but for the stupidity of this girl.

It was then that he decided to tell the girl off once and for all. He will also give her a last warning to not cross paths with him. After all, he will not have to face her again if he was successful this time. He hoped that the girl will not make things difficult for him again. He could kill two birds with one stone now, and this will be a perfect opportunity to teach the girl another lesson. The Head's dorms were far away, and no one will bother to come in here, unless there was something urgent. Thus, with confidence, Tom started off his plan. If Dipped or the nosy old codger indeed happened to come upon the situation, he was sure that he will be able to make up a good excuse; after all, he was the great Tom Riddle who always knew how to worm his way out of sticky situations like this. Dippet will believe every cock and bull story which he made up, and Slughorn, as his Head of House, will definitely support him. Dumbledore can fret as much as he liked, but he was not going to have a say in the matter if both Dippet and Slughorn were willing to believe him. And Tom was confident that this will be the case. So, without any fear, he started to mock Merope Granger. The girl still remained silent.

Finally, having said what he wanted to said, Tom concluded with: "And one more thing before I let you go," he said, "Remember my warning, Granger. Do not undermine my authority or cross paths with me. The little incident two days ago has done enough damage to my reputation already. I'll appreciate it if such things never happen again. Am I clear on this?"

For a moment, the girl remained motionless, leaning casually against the wall on the far sight of the room. However, when she finally moved, Tom did not expect what was going to come next at all.

With three long strides, she crossed the room and picked up the roll of parchment which had fallen onto the floor. Tom watched as she stuffed it into her robe pocket after unrolling it and giving it a quick scrutiny. What was she up to now, Tom wondered.

The girl turned to face him, with her arms crossed, and gave him another of her glares. Tom was getting furious now. He wished that he could kill the girl right here, in this room. She was such a pain in the neck! Why must she object him and fight his orders all the time? What was it with him that had made her hate him so much? He realized the disgusted look she always gives him when their gazes met. What had he done? Did he know this girl before? He doubted it. The girl was just a total psycho who had pissed him off for the past few days! Ever since she entered his school, Tom's life had turned upside down; he kept on thinking about silly things and acted strangely. He hoped that his ring of followers did not notice anything strange about him for the past few days. He will have to give them a valid excuse if one of them ever asked him about it later, to divert their suspicions away from him. And this was all the fault of one particular person, and the person was standing a few feet away from him now.

With a dangerous and raised voice, Tom said to the girl: "Answer me, girl! And don't you dare give me that look ever again!" He waited for his words to take effect on the girl. One who knew him will now obey him, as his eyes was beginning to have a mad and murderous glint in them, and his magic was crackling more fiercely around him now. He hoped that the girl will come to her senses, and stop fighting him this instant. If she was stubborn, he really has no other choice but to torture her again.

Her response was totally unexpected. For a moment, Tom just stood there, transfixed to his spot as the Head Girl begins to taunt him back. All of her words cut through him, and his anger had reached the boiling point now.

"How dare you?" Tom growled, advancing towards the girl. She certainly needs to learn it the hard way after all.

The girl ignored him, and continued.

As she shouted her last few words: "I…will…not…tolerate…this…from…you!" Tom pulled out his wand and advanced on the girl.

"I see," Tom said slowly. "Trying to play with fire, eh? Let's see how is it then. Cru…"

"Protego!" her reflexes were so quick, that Tom was caught by surprise. He had no time to finish the Cruciatus curse, as the girl produced a strong shield, which was now spreading in front of her, protecting her from his curse.

"Fine," he muttered under his breath. "If she wanted to play, I'll play with her."

Merope Granger was really something after all. She had willingly stood up to defend herself and was now dueling him single-handed. He admired her flare of courage and her determination. She could be quite useful to him after all. Perhaps he could persuade her to join his ring of followers, Tom wondered. But he had no time to think about it, as the girl was starting to flick her wand again.

"I'll teach you once and for all, girl. Let's see how this will end, shall we?" Tom maintained the high pitch of his voice as he swished his wand again, and sends another curse at the girl.

"Crucio!" he muttered.

With quick reflexes, the girl dodged the curse, and it impacted with the wall at the far side of the room, blasting it into pieces. Tom could see that the girl was in combat mode now.

"Let's see how well she fought," Tom muttered to himself. "After all, she claimed that both of her parents had been in the war and she had learned spells from aurors." He figured that he could take this opportunity to find out whether the girl was lying or not. His queries may be confirmed by this way.

The room was now filled with shattered glass and wooden splinters. As Granger covered her mouth and coughed, Tom took his opportunity. "Impedimenta totalus!" he thought non-verbally. He had combined both spells to make it a dark curse. The person who was hit by this curse will suffer severe injuries as their limbs will be bound together and his or her body will be flung against a hard surface such as a wall as hard as possible, and the force will be totally in the caster's control. Tom found much glee in creating this spell. He had took about half a year to perfect it. He was however only trying out the spell the first time on this girl, to see how well it worked.

With dismay, he noticed that the girl had noticed his attack, and dodged quickly. Tom admired her reflexes. Maybe she had really been through a battle before, he decided. After all, she seemed to know how to tackle her opponent well.

From the corners of his eyes, he noticed that she directed her wand towards an ornament which was placed as a decoration on the opposite side of the room. "Wingardium leviosa!" she shouted. The ornament immediately soared up into the air, and the girl directed it towards him.

Tom managed to blast the ornament into pieces just before it hit him squarely on the head. He sneered angrily at the girl. How dare she try to hurt him?

Tom dodged quickly as the girl fired a stinging hex at him. If the girl was planning to play rough, he will not be lenient towards her either. He nevertheless still planned to give the girl another chance. He will play small for just one more time.

"Expeliarmus!" he tried to disarm the girl. The girl's shield prevented his disarming spell from soaring towards the girl. She quickly deflected it, and shouted: "Petrificus totalus!" which Tom deflected with a lazy flick of his thirteen-and-a-half inches yew wand.

For the next few minutes, Tom just stood there, deflecting every single curse which she had sent his way. Some of them impacted with furniture and ornaments in the room, shattering them into pieces. The bedroom was now in a mess, but Tom did not give any attention to it. He continued to deflect her curses, with a huge smirk plastered on his face. He was going to break the girl, he decided. He will just wait for her to get tired and use up all her energy by attacking him with stupid easy curses and hexes before he took his revenge. She will have to pay for her actions later. With lazy flicks of his wand, he continued to play with the girl, deflecting her curses. He watched in glee as the girl looked exasperated and worn out. After all, she was just out of the hospital wing today, and it would not take him long to weaken her.

Finally, the moment he waited arrived. The girl's shield was growing weaker. Tom could see that she was using a lot of energy to try and hold her shield as she backed away and fired other curses at him. With a triumph grunt, he lashed out at her shield. "Protego deminitio!" A jet of blinding white light shot out from the tip of his wand, and collided with the girl's shield. It broke, and in her panic, the girl quickly waves her wand and castled another one.

Tom took this opportunity to fire another dark curse at the girl, which she dodged. "Levicorpus!" she shouted, and Tom deflected the spell easily. His smirk grew wider.

"Ah, Granger," he scoffed inwardly, "let's see how long you can stand this, shall we?"

For the second time, Tom fires the shield-breaking curse at the girl's shield, and this time she was not prepared for it. Her shield disappeared as it was enveloped by the blinding flash of white light. As the girl tried to cast yet another shield, Tom sent a dark curse which he had just perfected a few weeks ago her way. This curse will cause permanent scars on one's body and it will burn their flesh if the caster castled it angrily. A purple jet of light headed towards the girl. For a moment, Tom saw that she stood there, motionless, gazing at the jet of purple light which was heading her way. Then, an angry look cross her face. Tom wondered why. Was the girl frustrated at him for using spells she did not know? If this was the case, Tom was very happy indeed. Finally, he had managed to break the girl. If he continued to hurl curses at her, she will break down at a point, and he will get what he wanted from her easily and she will be just like other professors and students, obeying him and wrapped securely around his fingers.

Surprisingly, the girl regained some strength [how was this possible, Tom wondered], and started to hurl as many dark curses at him as possible. Tom was slightly taken by surprise. The curses which the girl fired at him were some of the darkest and most advanced curses in time, and it was a wonder that such an innocent looking girl like her knew about all these curses. Tom looked at the girl admiringly. She would be quite useful in his ring of followers. After all, she had grains, just like him, and she would be a perfect follower, who not only knew how to do her master's bidding but also to advise him and plan tactics and strategies together with him. However, Tom doubts that she will join his followers; she was a typical Gryfindor after all. What will others said when a Gryfindor was asked to be his follower? Furthermore, he still did not trust the girl. Judging by the way she fought him, he was sure that she will not buy his ideas; worse still, she may report him to the old codger. After all, he was the Gryfindor's Head of House. Oh no, he was certainly not taking this chance, Tom gathered.

These thoughts went through his mind as he deflected all the dark curses she hurled his way.

"Crucio!" she bellowed finally.

Quickly, Tom waved his wand in a complicated manner, and the curse soared off towards another tangent, hitting a painting on the walls instead, which shattered into pieces. He laughed in his usual high-pitched and maniac-like laugh, and taunted the girl.

"Trying to use unforgivables, eh?" he mocked. "Let's see more, shall we? After all, I would not stop you from showing your hidden talents. Tsk, tsk, who knows Hogwarts had selected a very dark Head Girl indeed. Don't you think so?"

"Crucio!" she tried again. Wow, such determination, Tom noted. When will she give up? He clenched his teeth in frustration as he deflected the curse again. He continued to mock her, to make her lose her concentration so that he could break her shield again and attack her. She had managed to strengthen her shield again in the process of firing curses at him just now.

"No, you don't deserved to be Head Girl after all. Dippet will have a fit if he knew about this. What do you think he would do to you, girl?" he mocked.

The girl was not paying any attention to him, it seemed. She was too busy firing hex after hex at him, her grip tight on her wand. Perspiration was forming on her forehead, and she was beginning to look tired.

Tom took this opportunity to break her shield for the third time. This time, she was caught off guard, as she noticed it at the last minute. As the girl tried to mask her panicked look and raised her wand, Tom quickly send a spell her way. She dodged, and in her haste, she lost her balance and fell onto the ground.

Her breath was knocked out of her, Tom noticed. He could hear her heavy and laboured breathing from where he was standing. Suddenly, he had an idea.

"Imperio!" he mouthed silently, as he saw that the girl still have no strength to stand up yet.

Her gaze become unfocussed and a dreamy expression crossed her features.

"Ah," Tom sighed with glee.

"Come to me," he begins to lull her to him.

"Huh? Where?" he read her thoughts.

"Here. I'm right here. Just walk forward. Come on."

She looked into his eyes, and he could tell that she was captivated by them. A dreamy look crossed her features again. "Come here," Tom continued in a soft voice. He smirked. Finally, he had the girl under control.

She still did not budge.

Tom was growing slightly impatient now. Nevertheless, he decided to give it one more tries.

"Come to me now. Come on. I'm waiting," he coaxed softly.

Finally, the girl stood up, and walked slowly towards him. She stopped a few feet away from him. Tom smirked again.

"Now, that's a good girl. Give me your wand," he instructed next. This was getting fun; he figured and watched with glee as the girl struggled with her thoughts again. Oh, she will never guessed what had happened, Tom noted with satisfaction. She seemed to contemplate her next move for a moment.

"Just give me your wand," he urged. The girl did not move.

"Just hold out your right hand," Tom tried again. The girl did as she was told. "Ah, that's a good girl. Now, look at me."

Her grip was slowly loosening on her wand.

Suddenly, the girl blinked, and a confused look passed through her features. She blinked again, and straightened up, pulling back from him. Tom looked at the girl. Had she just managed to resist the Imperius curse?

No, it couldn't be possible, he gathered. No one had ever managed to break through this unforgivable curse.

"Stand still, girl!" he snapped.

Tom could see that the girl try to move, but failed to do so. He smirked satisfactorily at this.

"Now, that's better. Loosen your grip on your wand,"

Her fingers relaxed, and Tom tried to slid her wand out of her grasp. "Let go now." He said softly.

Slowly, she let go of her wand. Tom took it in his hands, and laughed satisfactorily. Now, he was going to perform legilimency on her, to find out all he needed to know.

"Look at me," he ordered.

The girl looked him straight in the eye. Tom was very glad with this progression. He was confident that at this rate, the girl will be broken in no time.

Tom stared back at the girl again. He could tell that she was still trying hard to resist the curse.

"Imperio strengthenum!" he shouted, and the effects of the curse immediately doubled. He had invented this version of the Imperius curse himself and was very proud of it. This proved to be a very useful spell, as it was stronger than the Imperius curse. No one will be able to resist it. He had used it on the aurors who had questioned him after the opening of the Chamber of Secrets two years ago, as they had been trained to resist the Imperius curse by the Ministry. However, he found that this was not necessary as most of the good-for-nothing aurors could not even handle a simple Imperius curse, although they had been trained to do so. At a casual and simple flick of his wand, all of them melted away from their own responsibilities, and followed his instructions instead. That was why he managed to get out clean, as nobody suspected him at all, and the aurors were also unaware that they were put under one of the unforgivables.

Tom chuckled at this memory. Now, he was going to make sure that the same thing happened to this girl. She will follow his instructions blindly without knowing it and without being able to resist it [if she indeed tried to do so, just as she had attempted to do so earlier].

"Look at me now!" Tom ordered, after clearing his throat. The girl lifted her head slowly, but averted her gaze from him.

"Just look at me. Trust me, I won't hurt you," Tom coaxed in a soft voice. He was sure that this was going to work.

To his frustration, he saw that the girl was still contemplating her next moves. She looked confused, and then something weird happened. Her features changed from dreamy to confused to alert and finally, was this possible? Tom wondered. She regained her strength, and her body jolted forward violently. She blinked for a few time, and her gaze became focused again.

Was this some kind of joke? She had managed to resist the Imperius curse for the second time already. Tom looked at the quizzically.

"Look at me, now!" he tried to raise his voice, to test whether this was really the case.

"No!" he was shocked by the girl's shout. Without warning, she advanced towards him. Tom was totally unprepared for her next move.

A sharp pain could be felt as her right fist connected with the bridge of his nose. Before he knew it, Tom could hear the sound of his nose breaking and blood oozing out of his nostrils. He staggered backwards and hissed in pain. Reaching up to touch his nose as the girl advanced on him and screamed.

"How dare you, Tom Marvolo Riddle? Don't…ever…dare…pull…this…on…me…again.." she said, giving his nose a hard punch with each word. Another loud cracking sound could be heard. Tom hastily backed away, glaring at the girl. The nerve of this girl! How dare she hurt him like this? She will pay for what she did, no matter the consequences, Tom decided.

Tom's vision begins to blur in front of him. He held on to his broken nose, and took a few more steps backwards. In his haste, his grip on the girl's wand loosened, and noticing it, the girl quickly stretched out her hands and snatched it from his hands.

Tom watched as the girl eyed him with hatred plastered all over her face. Then, she directed her wand towards him. Instinctively, he reached for his wand, but dizziness overtook him. He felt that he needed to sit down for now.

Therefore, he barely registered it as the girl raised her wand. "Sectumsempra!" she shouted.

"What spell was that?" Tom wondered. "Did she invented the spell herself?" He had never heard of a spell like that before. It sounded dark.

Before he knew it, Tom felt a searing pain as the curse soared towards him. Controlling his pain as best as possible, Tom raised his wand, but his hands were trembling so badly from the pain that his wand fall out of his grasp. He felt his skin burning as the curse touched his cheek, making a deep gash appear. Oh, this was certainly a dark curse indeed, he gathered. Merope Granger was not to be fooled with after all. She knew how to pull her strings, just like him, and Tom will have to be careful of her from now onwards.

The girl seemed surprised at what she had managed to do to him. She gave Tom another look, before quickly turning her back on him. He heard her threw open the bedroom door, and ran down the staircase quickly. Perhaps she was scared of what she had done, Tom mused. Or perhaps she was worried that he will caught up with her and curse her back after what she had done to him just now.

Tom sighed. He snaked down onto the floor and breathed heavily. His vision was still swimming in front of him and he did not possess the strength to chase after the girl for now. She will get it later, and he was definitely going to make her sorry for what she had done to him and made her promise not to do that again in the future. If the problem was not solved sooner, she will be walking all over him, and he was never going to let this happen. He will still be the one in control over things here, and she will just stay on as a normal student and mind her own damn business just like all the other students of the school.

After resting for a few more minutes, Tom felt slightly better. He pulled himself into a sitting position, and non-verbally summoned his wand. It immediately landed into his outstretched hands.

"Episky!" he muttered, and hissed in pain as his nose mended itself. He waved his wand around the room, and all the broken furniture's repaired themselves, and arranged themselves neatly in their original positions. He then cleaned his robes, and headed for the bathroom. He needs to take a shower to calm himself now. He was boiling with anger.

Tom figured that he had no mood for dinner that evening. His plan to watch the night sky on the Astronomy Tower was also cancelled. There was no way he could still relax after what had happened just now. He need to plan fast and take the necessary steps to prevent his other counterpart from acting in the manner in which she thought fit around him. He will go to the room of requirement, he figured, after the torturing session of Millie Parkinson, which he was looking forward to now, as he need to lash out on someone badly now. No one was going to stop him, and he could torture that stupid Slithering as he wished.

Smirking and laughing like a madman, he undressed, and headed for the bathroom.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Half an hour later, Tom was standing by the window in the bedroom he shared with the Head Girl. He had just rubbed his Galleon [which was the way he communicated with the rest of his followers for now] to inform them that the meeting will be held earlier. He instructed Abraxas Malfoy and Lestrange to lure Parkinson out of the Great Hall right after dinner, and brought her to an empty and deserted classroom. He was now waiting for their signal that everything will be alright before proceeding to the said classroom himself.

His Galleon grew hot after a few seconds; he smiled at this. Speed was what he valued in his followers; he had trained them to be speedy in everything they do, and those who failed to complete a given task or respond to a given message in the time frame given will suffer severe consequences. His followers have managed to avoid this for quite some time now, as most of them reported back to him or responded to his message on time. As his Galleon grew hotter, various names started to appear on them. He had charmed his own Galleon to be the masterpiece of all the other galleons. His Galleon contained a memory detector which recorded every meeting and who was present in those meetings. This helped him to control all of his followers and monitor their behaviour. He was pleased with himself for his invention. It had taken him five months to figure this out.

As a complete list appeared on his Galleon [which means that all of his followers were aware of the change of plans], he pocketed the Galleon, and gazed out of the window.

At last, he saw a brown barn owl soaring in through his window. He had told Malfoy to send him an owl without any letter once the coast was clear, and he will be going to the said location himself. Smiling satisfactorily, Tom reached out, patted the owl quite roughly [as he was still angry – it hooted with disapproval before flying away], and turned away from the window.

He put on his black cloak, which was hoodless, unlike those worn by his followers. He preferred to wear a hoodless cloak himself for now, so that he will be able to see all of his followers more closely and it made it easier for him to carry out his torturing sessions as he will be able to have a better view of his victim, who in turn will be able to see his face. He liked to create a sense of fear in his victims towards him, thus he thought that wearing a cloak without a hood was best for him as for now. He may change his mind in the future, he gathered, and there was not a problem at all; as the ring leader, he had every right to dress in what he wanted and apply any policies which he deemed fit for his followers. Another of his trademark smirks crossed his features as this thought entered his head. Yes, soon, the wizzarding world will realize his capabilities and fear him. He will dominate the whole wizzarding world, and there will be the new beginning under the great Lord Voldemort's rule. Yes, the time will come soon, and he was going to make sure that he achieved what he wanted with glory and pride.

With this, Tom stepped out of his dormitory and closes the portrait hole silently behind him. The Pink Lady was not in her portrait, Tom noticed. Perhaps she had gone to visit her friends, he gathered.

Tom made his way down the deserted corridors, heading for the second floor. The clattering sounds of cutlery from the Great Hall had died down, signaling that dinner was over. He bumped into a few students along the way, but they were too busy talking amongst themselves that they did not give him much notice. He turned into the second floor. He was sure that nobody was here at this time. Malfoy had confirmed this by sending his owl as a signal to him just now. He hoped that this was the case. If not, Malfoy will be severely punished for this.

The cold autumn wind touched his skin, sending chills over his whole body. He hugged himself tightly, and muttered a warming charm under his breath. It will not last long, but it will keep him warm for now, he gathered. Luck was on his side this time. He arrived at the said classroom five minutes later. He quickly turned the doorknob, and entered the classroom.

"Colloportus strengtenum! Muffliato!" he casted non-verbally, and the door bolted itself firmly. Not a sound will be heard outside, until there were finished in here. Having done this, he turned around, and surveyed the room. All his followers were already there, gathered in a circle. As he entered the classroom, the chattering died down, and the circle parted to let him through. He leaned against the closed door for a moment, and twirls his wand with his thin and long fingers. The room was in total pin drop silence now. His group of followers stood huddled together, watching him with scared expressions on their faces. Most of them kept on giving their friends sideways glances, and others just stood there, tapping their foot agitatedly while fiddling with their wands and creased robes.

Tom let the silence last for a whole minute before finally turning to face his group of followers. All of them wore hooded black cloaks, but Tom could see that he stand out among all of his followers; with his billowing and swishing black cloak, and his aura, he certainly looked like the leader of the group. All of his followers looked upon him with fear and respect. He was very proud about this.

He stepped into the centre of the circle, straightened up, cleared his throat and begins his speech. "Good evening, my dear followers!" he begins.

"Good evening to you, my lord!" they echoed. Tom smiled satisfactorily.

"First of all, I'll like to welcome all of you back into the group after two months of summer break. Hope all of you enjoyed your holidays, as I had enjoyed mine very much." He smirked, remembering his activities during the summer break; killing his father and creating his second horcrux. He felt gleeful and proud of himself of having able to achieve so much; this was definitely a sense of accomplishment for him, the great Lord Voldemort, and he will always cherished the memory.

"I hope that all of you will be prepared to carry out our plans, as we have already discussed it before the break. I hope that all will be done without flaws, and our route to world domination will be much easier if we were able to carry out our plans." He paused, eyeing every single follower skeptically.

"So, without further delay, I will like to begin our meeting today. Barajas, how is everything progressing?"

"My lord," Malfoy stepped forward, puffing out his chest proudly, "I've been keeping a watch out on things as you have instructed me last summer. All the girls did not even suspect a thing; they figured that they had been poisoned by some herbology plants which they meddled with. They did not know that they have been given poisonous potions for testing. I've managed to convince a few of them who still seemed suspicious. Apart from that, I've personally erased Madam McCarthy's memory after she overheard my conversation with Lestrange about a poisonous potion that you brewed, my lord. Thus, I'm proud to report that everything is under control."

Tom smirked. "Very good, Malfoy. Now, let's hear from you, Lestrange."

"My lord," Lestrange stepped forward, "I've put a few Raven claw prefects under the Imperius curse. They will definitely be happy to show you the way to the Ravenclaw commonroom and the girl's dormitories if you asked them about it. I've also asked a few girls over some butter beer about the Grey Lady, and most of them said that the Grey Lady was very difficult to charm."

"Very well. Malfoy and Lestrange, both of you have done well, and will be rewarded. I'll give both of you a new assignment in our next meeting. And Malfoy, before I forget, I would like you to bring me a few books on crystalballs from your great collection back home. I will want this by next Monday."

"Certainly, my lord. I'll write to father and ask him to send it over on Sunday. I'll pass it to you on Monday during breakfast, my lord," Malfoy said quickly.

"Good. Knot and Avery, how is it going so far?"

"We're trying to recruit a few more girls to join us, but the problem is Eileen Prince had managed to convince most of them to stay away from us," Knot started.

"Yes, and I've even try to plant false memories in a few girls to convince them that Eileen Prince is up to not good, but most of them will not listen, and my false memories only lasted for a while," piped in Avery.

"The only one we managed to convince is Lestrange's girlfriend, Lucretia Black, but she still seemed unsure. And, that bastard of a cousin Alphard Black keep on sticking around whenever we tried to approach her," Knot added.

"Keep on trying," Tom said, "Lestrange, you may want to help them to coax your girlfriend into joining us, eh?"

"Certainly, my lord," Lestrange replied quickly. Tom could tell that he forced this out unwillingly, but he did not care.

"Fine. Mulcibur, Crabbe, and Goyle, the three of you will be given some new assignments during the next meeting. The three of you can help Malfoy and Lestrange out if you wanted to, since the three of you have already completed your assignments. And, I would also like to ask the three of you to keep a watch on Alphard Black. We never know what he is up to, I don't trust him much. He might suspect something and our cover will be blown. I do not wish for this to happen. Do you get me?"

"Yes, my lord," Avery said, "we'll ensure that our little secret is well kept among us."

"Be sure to keep your word, Avery, or you know what will happen," Tom said, giving him a warning look. Avery nodded, and took a few steps back. Tom smirked satisfactorily again.

"Crabbe, Goyle, knot, how about the three of you? Are you going to work together to ensure that our secret remained with us until we leave school?"

"Yes, my lord," the three of them chorused.

"Good," Tom said, "I'm proud of all of you tonight. Those who had helped the most will be rewarded in the future."

He let the words sank into his followers before clearing his throat and continuing.

"Having said that, I'll adjourn the meeting. Now, we will be dealing with something more interesting and have a little fun before we said goodnight, shall we?"

He looked around the room once more. His followers nodded silently. He could tell that they were scared for what is going to come next.

"Further discussions will be carried out during our next meeting. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my lord," they all echoed.

Tom pulled himself to his full height, cleared his throat, and produced his wand, which he had placed in his pocket earlier when they were discussing about their progression just now.

"Now, I have some matters to attend to, and I hoped that all of you will take this as a lesson to not cross paths with me. Early this morning, the Slytherin prefect, Millie Parkinson, which I think all of you, should have known by now, had spiked my drink with a love potion. We are here tonight to witness the consequences that she will suffer as a result of her actions. Are all of you clear on this?"

The group nodded. Whispers broke out among a few on the lower ranked members, as they had no idea of tom's plan yet.

"I've developed a few new spells which I think need to be tested on someone else. This includes the new Cruciatus curse and other exciting spells that will inflict great pain on its victim. So, I can't wait to try it out on our target tonight. What do all of you think about this?"

The room was silent.

"Hmm?" he questioned again. "Why do I get no response for my question just now?" His eyes turned crimson, and glinted dangerously as he surveyed every face around him.

"Very nice, my lord. Let's see it. I think it'll be fun," Malfoy started finally after another long pause.

"Yes, indeed, my lord. We can't wait," Mulcibur added quickly. The rest of the group nodded.

"Oh? Then what are we waiting for? Let's begin!"

"Yeah!" the group chorused. Tom could tell that most of them faked enthusiasm; they were probably too scared of him to oppose what he wanted to do. He was glad about this.

"Now, if there were no objections, we shall proceed," Tom said. The group nodded again. A few of his followers sniggered and laughed.

"Malfoy, please proceed," Tom ordered.

"As you said so, my lord," Malfoy said, stepping forward, carrying Parkinson's limp form which he had "Accio-ed" from across the room.

"Put her down in front of me. Yes, right here will be perfect." Tom advanced towards the girl, twirling his wand in his right hand. He crouched down and closes the gap between Parkinson and himself.

The girl was caught by surprise by Malfoy's stunner, it seemed. The surprised look still remained on her face. Tom took another disgusted look at the girl before gripping his wand firmly in his hands. The game was just beginning.

"Enervate!"

Parkinson's eyelids fluttered open. Confusion was written all over her face. She blinked and then gazed up at him.

"Tom?" she asked in a low voice. Her eyes surveyed the room around her nervously. They finally rested on him.

"Hmmm?"? He asked softly, stroking her hair with his long fingers. She gave a low moan and squealed with glee.

"Oh, Tom…"

He pulled her hair forcefully, making the girl startled. "Ow, Tom. That was painful. Don't do this." She blushed. That stupid girl!

"I thought you liked me so much, my dear. Care for shag?" he asked, still keeping a firm grip on her hair.

"Tom…"

"Don't you want me, darling?" he asked, pulling her head backwards and forcing her chin upwards. He glared at her, and Parkinson tried to pull away.

"Tom…"

"Can I kiss you? After all, you have such wonderful lips, you know," he said, tracing her lower lip using his wand.

"Tom, what are you doing? Can you please let go of my hair?" Parkinson began to tremble.

"Oh? Don't be frightened, darling. You wanted this, don't you?" he asked her, laughing his usual high-pitched laugh.

"Tom, stop it, please," she started to cry.

"Why? Didn't you liked to be tee center of attention? I'm giving you the opportunity to demonstrate what you are capable of. Come on, darling. Don't be shy," he kicked her hard in the ribs. The girl screamed in pain, and clutched her sides. Tom laughed again.

"Look around you, my dear girl. There will be a full audience tonight, and you are allowed to do away with me as you please. After all, I could see that your desire is so great that you dared to spike my drink this morning. Now is the opportunity to do what you've been waiting for. So, what are you waiting for? The night is all yours."

Parkinson sobbed bitterly. She lifted her tear stained face and surveyed the room. Her eyes were as round as galleons when he saw the group huddled in the center of the classroom.

"Tom…What have you done? Where am I" Who are all these hooded men?" Tom was glad as he detected a hint of fear in the girl's voice.

"My followers," Tom said simply, moving closer to where Parkinson was lying, still clutching her sides. The girl flinched and immediately tried to move away from him.

"What did you mean your followers? What are you doing, Tom?" Parkinson said, her voice cracking slightly. More tears trickled down her cheeks. She wiped it on the sleeve of her robe.

"Oh, my followers were so wonderful. They obeyed my every command, and carried out all my biddings. Why? You think that I have no influence over the people of my own house?"

"Tom, I didn't mean that…"

"Oh?"

"What do you want, Tom? Please don't hurt me anymore."

"Hmm? The fun is just beginning, right my dear followers?"

Not even one of his followers dared to utter a word. They just nodded fearfully.

"Answer me, all of you!" Tom shouted angrily, stomping his foot hard on the floor.

"Y…yes, my lord," all of them said in a low voice.

"Do you hear that, darling?" he inched closer to where Parkinson was lying. Her eyes widened in horror, and she tried to move away from him. He pinned her to the floor in one swift movement.

"Tom, what are you doing?" she asked, as he closed the gap between them.

"Teaching you a lesson not to undermine me. I've already warn you, Parkinson, but you did not listen. Thus, you leave me with no choice," Tom said.

"Tom…I…"

"I've asked you to stay away from me, and you turned a deaf ear to my warnings."

"Tom, I…"

"Now, shut up, you insufferable girl!" Tom shouted. Parkinson just stared at him, her eyes wide. She had certainly not seen this side of him before.

"I'm sorry, Tom," she tried.

"Too late. Should we start my dear followers?" Tom asked.

The group around him nodded.

Parkinson started to scream. Tom slapped her hard across the face, and the girl wailed. She tried to kick him, but she was not fast enough. Tom slapped her again hard across the face. Parkinson shrieked in pain.

"Please, Tom, I beg you!"

"No one got away without any punishment after playing the fool with Lord Voldemort!" Tom shouted, kicking Parkinson hard in the shin for the second time.

"Please, Tom! Please! No! I promised I won't do it again!"

Tom laughed, and ignored the girl. He straightened up, and walked a few paces backwards.

"Crucio!"

Parkinson started to scream and scream. All the others watched in terror as she begins to thrash about on the floor. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Tom felt gleeful now, as he watched her body convulsing in pain. Blood was slowly dripping down the front of her robes, as she bit down on her lower lip in pain.

"Crucio strengtenum! Impedimenta inflicto! Defindo permanento!" he hurled curses after curses at Parkinson. The girl's screams were muffled once he silenced her with the silencing spell.

Malfoy and the others just watched this without uttering a single word. Tom could see that all of them were terrified of witnessing this.

"Now," he said, tracing Parkinson's lips after lifting off the curses he had casted earlier. Her robes were now crimson in colour, soaked in her own blood. Her body was full of burned marks and scars. "Since you liked to spike other people's drinks, let's see how it is like if I spike your drink with something interesting. Lestrange!"

"Yes, my lord?" Lestrange asked. Tom could see that he was trembling all over.

"Bring me the basilisk venom poison."

"Accio, poison!" Lestrange casted silently, and a few moments later, a bottle soared through the air from one of the cabinets and landed in Lestrange's hands. With trembling hands, Lestrange passed the bottle to Tom.

"Aquamenti!" Tom jabbed his wand into a goblet which he conjured, and a jet of water shot out of it.

Smirking, he held the bottle in front of Parkinson, and uncapped it before the girl's eyes. He measured out three drops of the bright yellow liquid, and poured it into the goblet. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, quite suddenly, the concoction begins to sizzle, and a few moments later, the goblet was filled with a bright green froth. Tom looked down at the liquid, and smiled.

"There, it's perfect. Now, may I have the honour of offering my lady a drink?" he held the goblet in front of Parkinson.

The girl's face was now white as a sheet. Tom lifted the silencing spell from her with a lazy flick of his wand. Parkinson let out a muffled wail, and hid her face with her hands. She hugged herself tightly, and started to back away from Tom.

"No? Or should I take the liberty to assist my lady in drinking this wonderful concoction which was my greatest invention thus far?"

"No, please! I don't want…"

Parkinson pushed herself into a sitting position, and tried to get up from the floor, but she was not quick enough in doing so.

"Where do you think you are going, girl? Let's see how this worked, shall we? After this, I'll test out a few new curses which I've invented myself. If you behaved yourself, all of it will be over in a matter of seconds. Am I clear?"

"Tom…"

Parkinson tried to inch away towards the nearest wall, which were a few feet away from where she was lying.

"Perfidious totalus!" Parkinson's body fell limply to the ground once more. With another flick of her wand, Tom managed to flip the girl's body over, so that she faced him. He crouched down, and forced open her mouth.

"Lestrange, keep the bottle nicely in its proper place," Tom ordered while he tipped the contents of the goblet into Parkinson's mouth.

Lestrange banished the bottle with a flick of his wand as Tom dumped the last remains of the potion into Parkinson's throat. Having done that, he straightened up, panting slightly, and banished the goblet.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, huge boyles begin to appear on parkinson's face. It started to spread throughout her whole body. Tom lifted the bodybind spell from Parkinson, and the girl gazed at her hands which were now swollen and covered with horrible yellow boyles with pus fearfully.

"Oh, Tom! What have you done?" she started to wail.

"Giving you a better appearance," Tom said simply. "This is how you should look like, you insufferable bitch!"

"Nooooo!" Parkinson screamed. "Oooooooh!"

She clutched her stomach suddenly, and cried out in pain. Then, she opened her mouth, and vomited blood.

Tom laughed like a maniac as he watched this. Parkinson continued to spit blood out of her mouth, making spitting sounds just like a snake. This lasted for approximately three minutes. Tom could see that all of his followers were trembling from head to toe in horror after witnessing this. He smirked satisfactorily.

After Parkinson's vomiting subsided, Tom knelt down, and muttered a few healing spells to heal her. Then, he straightened up, and flicked his wand once more.

"Crucium imperium kedavera!" he shouted. Parkinson's body begins to rise from the ground on its own accord, and was suspended in mid air. Then, her body begins to twitch and twitch nonstop.

"Continue twitching," Tom ordered, and Parkinson obeyed.

When she finished, Tom order her to perform a few more silly acts, before her body fall back onto the ground on its own accord.

Then, something more terrible happened. Parkinson's body convulsed violently for a moment, before she let out a terrible scream as her whole body was set ablaze. Fire started to emerge from her nose, burning her skin as she tried to use her hands to prevent it from coming out of her nose.

Tom watched this with glee. Malfoy and Lestrange had turned quite white by now. The others had backed away and huddled together closely at the opposite side of the room. They watched in horror as their leader continued to torture the girl; they were afraid that the girl will die of pain if the torturing did not end too soon.

The flames were now licking Parkinson's shoulders. She screamed in pain again. Tom watched this with glee.

"So, what do all of you think of my greatest inventions?" Tom questioned his followers, after laughing like a maniac again.

No one dared to answer him.

"Lestrange, what do you think?"

"It's…wonderful, my lord. You're such a great wizard," Lestrange stammered.

"Liar! I can see right through you!" Tom said, "this was not what you are thinking about. Am I right?"

"My lord, I don't understand…"

"Lestrange, there's no need to hide the fact that you just said this to please me. I'm used to this type of compliments already, and I know exactly what all of you're thinking," he sniggered at Lestrange, before casually flicking his wand. Parkinson immediately quieted down, as the curse was lifted off her.

"Malfoy!"

"Yes, my lord?" Malfoy said, moving forward.

"Assist Parkinson back to her dormitory. Before that, bring her to Madam McCarthy. Make up an excellent excuse, and plant a false memory in parkinson's head, so that she will not tell anyone about this. Make sure not to erase her memory. I just want her to remember what is it like to undermine me and to ignore my warnings."

"Yes, my lord," Malfoy said.

Tom crouched down beside Parkinson again.

"Remember, if I heard you said a word about this to anyone, the consequences will be more severe than this time, girl. I'm warning you for the last time: stay away from me, and don't you dare try anything funny on me again. Am I clear on this?"

Parkinson nodded quickly.

"Good," Tom said, straightening up. "If you said anything, I doubt it'll work. Malfoy will plant a false memory in your mind so that if anyone who tried to get information out of you will only get to see the picture that Malfoy created."

"Fine. I don't mind. I won't tell. Can I go now, Tom? Please!" Parkinson said in a shaky voice. She looked drained out and tired.

"Malfoy, you may carry out your duty now," Tom said. "Make sure no one see you when you exit the classroom," he said.

Malfoy started to back away.

"Close your eyes," Malfoy order Parkinson. Parkinson did as she was told. "Mobilacorpus!"

He started to levitate the girl out of the classroom through the back door. Tom watched this for a moment, before advancing towards Lestrange.

"Now, I'll not punish you for what you said just now, Lestrange. If I were to do that, I'll have to torture the whole lot of you. All of you must be telling the same lie over and over again. Am I right?"

His group of followers just nodded fearfully.

"Ah," Tom said, smiling. "Since my spirits are up tonight, as I've managed to test my new curse and new potion, and both turned out to be successful, I'll not curse all of you today"

"Thank you, my lord. Please forgive us," all of his followers chorused.

"Fine. Lestrange, please step forward!"

"My lord?" Lestrange, who had moved back into the circle to join his friends asked enquiringly.

"You'll be punishing for the shameful incident in Divination today," Tom stated simply.

Lestrange stepped forward fearfully.

"Crucio!"

Lestrange begins to scream and thrashed about on the floor. Tom only let the curse last for a few seconds, before lifting it off.

"I think that will be enough. Let all that we've go through be a lesson to all of you."

"Yes, my lord."

"All of you may go now. Meeting dismissed! Till we meet again in the next meeting!"

"Good night, my lord,"

He nodded curtly, giving them the signal to leave. All at once, his followers started to file out of the classroom silently through the back door.

When all of them had left, Tom let out a deep sigh, and sat down on a desk. He felt exhausted after the torturing session just now. He touched his nose thoughtfully. It still hurt a little, after the Head girl broke it.

"She'll be my next target," he murmured, closing his eyes. Tiredness overtook him. He decided to call it a day now, and return to his dormitory for an early night.

He sighed again, swung his long legs over the desk, and left the classroom through the back door. He walked around the classroom, making a detour to unlock the door before walking in the opposite corridor.

As he made his way up the seventh floor, another thought entered his head. He will faced Merope Granger again if he returned to his dormitory [if she planned to go back there], and he had no desire to do so now. He would want to curse her if he saw her again for another time afterwards, and he do not think that he possess the energy to fight her again for now. He was too tired after all the events today.

He still wondered why he got tired so easily nowadays. Does this have something to do with his seizures? He had not yet asked the matron, Madam McCarthy about it yet. And this was also the Head Girl's fault. If she had not had that nightmare that day, he will perhaps get his questions answered.

Tom stalked down the corridor angrily. Finally, he decided to give the matter a rest for the moment. He will think about it later. For now, he needed to rest.

He made a decision finally, and turned into the opposite corridor, instead of the one leading to the Heads' Dorms. He reached a large portrait, where trolls were training for ballet, and faced the stretch of blanc\k wall opposite it. He smiled to himself. He doubted that anyone have known about this room thus far. He had stumbled upon it by accident one late night during his prefects' patrols in his fifth year. He called it the Come-and-go room, as it will only appeared when he asked it to provide him a place to rest and etc.

"I need a place to rest and clear my thoughts." He started chanting, while pacing in front of the wall. He muttered this for a few times, before opening his eyes. Sure enough, a door had materialized on the stretch of blank wall. Glancing around to make sure that no one was around, he pushed open the door, and stepped into the room.

The room looked inviting as always. Tom took a deep breath after closing the door quietly behind him. He paced the room for a while, before making for the armchair near the fireplace. He settled himself comfortably on the armchair, and warmed himself by the fireplace.

Tom smiled to himself, though the smile did not reach his eyes. He figured that this was the perfect place for him as for now. No one will know about it, and he will get to rest for as long as he liked. He stretched after a few more minutes, and made for the huge bed opposite the room.

He sighed contently as he climbed up onto the bed, and lie down, pulling the covers around him. Tiredness overtook him, and he succumbed to it yet again.

He began to slowly drift off to sleep, with thoughts on how to plan his revenge on the Head Girl still flooding his mind.

Tom was about to doze off completely when he heard a faint click. At first, he thought he was imagining it. No one knew that this room existed, and he was absolutely sure of this. Maybe he was started to dream, he gathered.

He shifted slightly and relaxed. Then, he heard a sharp intake of breath. What was that, he wondered.

Then, a familiar smell reached him. It was so sweet; he inhaled deeply. It smelled of cherry blossoms.

"This is impossible!" he muttered to himself. He blinked. And then, he saw a figure huddled against the door.

"Am I dreaming?" he wondering.

He heard another movement, and this time he opened his eyes. He froze for a moment. He could not believe his eyes.

There, standing in front of him was none other than his other counterpart, Merope Granger. How had she managed to get in? This was impossible. She was just a new student after all.

He blinked again, and the girl was still standing in front of him, as real as any human being could be. Was it her scent which he had caught a whiff of just now? He inhaled deeply, and was glad to find that he could no longer smell it. He must have been dreaming when he caught a whiff of his favourite smell which had haunted him for the past few days.

The Head Girl looked surprised too. For a moment, their gazes locked. Tom's surprise was quickly masked by a blank expression. He smirked. This will be the best opportunity to get back at the girl, he figured. Since she had accidentally stumbled across the room [Tom figured this was the case], he may as well teach her a lesson and get back at her once and for all now.

He will also read her mind using legilimency now, and find out whether she had been lying about her background. He will also find out how she stumbled upon this room, before deciding what to do with her next. All his tiredness was instantly washed away as he prepared to face the Head Girl.

He started to taunt the Head girl, and disarmed her. After that, he went through the same routine, as with Parkinson. The Head Girl looked scared, but kept her determination as he read her mind.

He sifted through all of her thoughts, and when he was satisfied with it, he let her go, and tortured her again. He was glad of it.

He watched her scream and cried. He used a few of the new curses which he had invented yet again, and was pleased to find out that they worked rather well. Then, he pondered his next move.

Finally, he could see that the girl was beginning to break. She begged him to stop. Tom laughed. Finally, he had managed to break her. At last!

The girl started to cry, and Tom screamed at her again. He hated crying; he hated this form of weakness.

"Granger, get up!" he screamed as the girl's sobs died down eventually.

"I…can't..."

That was the last thing she said before passing out cold on the floor. For a moment, Tom stood there, staring at her. Was she that weak, he wondered.

He crossed the room, and crouched down beside the girl. He looked down at her. Damn, she still looked beautiful, even with her blood-stained clothes and tear-streaked face.

"What am I doing?" he wondered, averting his eyes from the girl.

"You cared for her," another small part of him mocked.

"No, I don't," he retorted angrily.

"Just admit it."

"No way! I'm Lord Voldemort!"

"So what? You're also a human."

"Ah, shut up!"

Tom stood up angrily, and takes one last look at the girl.

"Granger, what is it with you that keep me attracted to you?" he murmured softly, reaching down to stroke the girl's hands gently. They were cold as the stone floor now, Tom realised. He looked towards the bed. Should he cover her with a blanket, or just let her remain on the floor? He was sure that the girl will come to her senses soon. He considered healing her too. He felt sorry for the girl for her losses; he could not blame her for turning against him. She had gone through a lot; at least he was better. He just stayed at the orphanage, where he was unaffected by the raging war. He only has to endure the suffering cries of other children and World War II, which was not as terrible as the wizzarding war, in his opinion.

Realising where he was heading to, he shook himself hard and stomped his foot angrily. Why does the girl always have this effect on him, he wondered.

"Stop it! You're Lord Voldemort!" he mocked himself for the last time. He will just leave the girl here, he decided. After all, she meant nothing to him.

Taking one last at the girl, he put his wand back into his pocket, placed the girl's wand beside her and started to make his way out of the room.

Just as he was reaching the door, a sudden wave of dizziness overtook him. In a few seconds, his seizure begins again. This time, it was worse than before. His chest burned; his teeth chattered as they knocked against one another; his body convulsed violently. His breathing became ragged again, as his fingers begin to twitch and his whole body started to get numb.

Tom coughed violently, and felt a sharp pain in his ribs. He doubled over, clutching his sides. He leaned on the door for support.

He stumbled as he took a few steps away from the door. He meant to head towards the bed, but he was attacked by another string of coughs, which caused him to double over. His vision became blurring, and he could not see anything around him. He started to grope about. He reached out and touched something soft. A body.

It must be Merope granger, he gathered. He was slowly slipping away from consciousness now. With all the strength left in him, he tried to move across the room and find the bed. He needed to lie down.

Another series of coughs sent Tom doubling over again and he instantly sat down on the cold floor. He breathed in deeply. His vision was beginning to spin around him, and he struggled to keep his eyes focused.

"Steady now, Tom…" he murmured to himself. He grabbed onto the girl's shirt for support, as he tried to pull himself up from the floor. His fingers grasped something hard. What was that? Was that a chain that the girl was wearing?

Suddenly, a course of electricity coursed through his whole body, and Tom drew back in shock. His fingers begin to burn, and he tried to muffle a scream.

He backed away from the girl, and tries to get up. He made it to the door finally, groping around as his vision was still spinning around him. He was just turning the handle of the doorknob when another fit of coughs attacked him again. He stumbled backwards for a few steps, breathing heavily.

Before he knew it, Tom Marvolo Riddle collapsed onto the cold stone floor, and passed out cold a few feet away from where the Head Girl was lying.

Silence filled the room. The fireplace still burned merrily, and all the other things in the room seemed undisturbed.

Unknown to both the unconscious occupants of the room, the locket under Hermione's shirt begin to emit a warm glow. It grew brighter and brighter and suddenly, there was a flash of pink light which illuminated the whole room. The beam of light shot out of the locket, drifted past both the unconscious bodies, and soared out into the open window opposite the room.

From there, it drifted towards the Heads' Dorms, up the tower and into the bedroom which was shared by both the unconscious occupants in the Room of Requirement. It headed straight at the bed at one far end of the room and finally hit its target, which was hidden under the lid of a worn out trunk.

There was a faint "clink" as the beam of light connected with both halves of the pink crystal, and both halves started to glow brighter and brighter. They started to move further apart towards one another on their own accord, as though an invisible force was pulling them apart.

Finally, the both halves of the crystal mended itself again as the beam of light melted into it again. Now, the crystal had a silvery mist in it, if one looked closely at it.

From outside the Heads' Dorms, a faint smile stretched across the Pink Lady's face. He let it play on her features for a few moments, before sighing, and walking out of her portrait yet again to visit the Fat Lady at Gryfindor tower.

"The task is gaining some progression," she murmured faintly, as she walked away and emerged beside the Fat Lady. "All will be well soon."

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** There! Finally it's done!

** Hope all of you liked it!

** Next chapter is on the way!

^^ Hermione Hean Fuji ^^


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